bathroom thoughts – a poem

bathroom thoughts a break from reality in time and space made company by the sound of rushing water day old coffee beans and the whir of the fan above me. This could be anywhere, yet it is here. The wastebasket is overflowing and my hands feel like chalk even though I washed them only an …

coloring – a poem

I took a train out of Boston South Station at 9:30 pm I got there an hour early because the restaurant I was in had closed it was sunday and it was snowing. I entered the station and the only place to sit was at a long table inhabited by an old homeless man sleeping, slumped …

displayed – a poem

I sat naked on a block of wood the light glared in my eyes and the brightness combined with lack of sleep made me struggle to keep them open. I stared at one spot until I started to see faces in the wallpaper. the room was mostly silent as people sketched the only sound for …

wrapped – a poem

the room is chilly without your body to warm it. I went to sleep all stretched out taking up the whole bed happy that my neck wasn't being compromised by your arm underneath it or cranked too much to one side to fit my head against your chest. but this morning, I woke up cold …

avocados from grocery stores – a poem

nourishment comes in the color of pomegranate seeds and grocery stores along the coast so you can see the ocean as you shop for avocados from Mexico or wherever. in these parts we only see ice cracked against black asphalt and trees bare leaves long gone. holding bags of plastic and avocados from Colombia or wherever. …

bedroom window – a poem

my bedroom window overlooks a blue house overlooking the blue water. across the channel are yellow cranes sometimes I see submarines passing by heading to the naval base sometimes I see white ferries passing by heading to islands sometimes I see magnificent sunrises when I wake sometimes I see the old man from the blue …

marbled masterpieces – a poem

marbled sand castles make masterpieces out of whipped terrain.   submarines reappear slowly back from who knows where. we can't know where.   once a year we get the chance to refresh renew reflect   make marbled masterpieces out of us and see how the wind has shaped it's sculpture over the years.

sing – a poem

I sang in public yesterday the music couldn't keep spilling out from my heart in the restaurant in the restroom down the main street two strangers stopped me and said "you have a great voice, please keep singing" and I thought that was significant for the first day of the new year Maybe this is …

pillow lips – a poem

I lean into kiss your pillow lips that taste of espresso and mint. The tide comes dangerously close but on our little island of sand we are safe, we are dry. The tide can't touch us. The sun sinks down painting brilliance and the wind whips in between us together we cling tightly; keeping eaching …

green eyes – a poem

sunlight pours in refracted rainbow segments glint off glittering green eyes. you are so beautiful. your body is like dancing silk. those green eyes are the eyes in which I see the world. They are me.