Aug 28 2021

tell me a story

the world is on fire

stop what you’re doing

nothing is fair and the sky is lit

smiling dancing and buying
stop building hiding

stop spinning

stop spilling

stop drilling
for rain

i’m an ocean of echo
on the tilt-shift of dragon

i am gold and philosophy
still and bespoken

i am school with no student
blinded by billow

i’m the cloud of refrain
in a field of forgotten


Apr 18 2021

the year of living dangerously

and now they say it’s not that bad, the sky isn’t
falling and here we are, bits of blue in our hair,
trapped in the rat-maze tracks we’ve worn in the
carpet, no longer even trying to get out.

and now they say sorry, so sorry, sorry, not sorry
and no one knows who cares, doesn’t care,
can’t care, wouldn’t care, cares too much,
has gone mad with the caring, can’t find
a damn thing to care about.

and now the sky is blue but it’s always raining and
the basement’s flooding, water seeping in around
the edges, no one sees if we close the door, ignore
the smell, carry on with dinner and distraction and
pretend people aren’t dying in a dark spreading puddle
of sour statistic.

and now. the question that only ever has one
answer, the damned unprepared living of it all,
smiling when the sun hits your face for one brief
silent moment, aching for life, alive love
laughter landing, burning through the
empty stare of days.

and now.

Apr 17 2021

i’ll sing a song for you

in the black lace
morning moment sunrise
hand held branch felled heart meld
water warped meander walk
of worship

Apr 13 2021


there is no bitterness here

nor regret

just the walking off
weary worry
weight of the world

no solutions to carry

no voice fuel to parry

no answers hidden
in the littered grey gravel

just anger fury fear glinting off the back

of the (slick fake true) reel news

this sky that sky this sky
always leading always following


not enough


not enough

too much too much too much

to reach so high

Apr 5 2021


these days
i drink information
through a funnel

an endless stream
of bits and bytes

hoping for
a nibble

or a pause
just long enough

to gasp





Mar 12 2021


i listened for so long i went silent

mute as a river drinking dawn in the forest
mute as a sky bright with stories of stars
mute as a heart bleeding love like a wound

there are no words for any of this
no lexicon
for racing blindly through the darkness of reality
hawking bliss and deprivation in quiet turn

i am echo
singing jagged edge
across each mountain

you are breath
and something
less tangible

or everything

it’s all there
ramshackle and ready

but we’ve forgotten
her story
our collective

i walk this path
i have traveled
too often

watch two bluebirds
savor sunshine
just the way March requires

i remember you there
on my windowsill
all magic and tragedy

so often depends
on kindness

i say nothing

. . . . .

. . . . .

Mar 11 2020

last night

i let the dog out
and the moon was singing

down at the swamp
one thousand geese
honked the words
to a universal melody

polaris twinkled

guiding each of us






Jul 30 2019

on learning to laugh
through the bars
of this broken
hearted window

a giggle escapes
through the space

blue sky

and you
in the corner

throwing choices
at cracked white walls

always looking
for the one
that will stick

i hear an ocean of epitaph
singeing torn curtains

a whale on the roof
leaking tears
into gutter

grey gull
limping flight
through white waves of sand

a bead of laughter
rises up
beneath the surface

breaking skin and
creeping starfish
that will die
of too much sun

and the ball
rolling back in my

comes to rest
at the edge
of false fealty

cliff hanger hopeful
and harpy sated


marking grid
on fields of silent

glittered gauze

Jul 11 2017

i made you my art, and then I remembered

i once
built a moon
on a red wall of chapter
singing verse and pressing mortar
into cracks and desperation

all scrabble fingered
and blister burned

pasting love and scraps of
over lies and offered

all the while pretty singing

this is the light
we eat by

this is the light
i worship at night

this is the light
i fly to

burning wing and hemmed

my own false idol
swinging from a string
in the blackest corner
of orion’s night




Jun 14 2016

and silence grows

digging deep through poisoned soil
seeking hope or refuge or both
and the flower opens
and we think pretty
but it’s all
just a matter
of survival

“this is not really happening—
you bet your life it is”*

hang your head
nod hello
stand your ground

i can’t remember

i can’t remember

your name
or alice
or delilah

i can’t remember

and all you ever wanted
was bloom




(*from Tori Amos’ Cornflake Girl)