Feather Weight

A kiss creased into a back pocket
Smiled unexpectedly
In reference to a present opened on Christmas,
An item thoughtful and needed
Following a fence post wanted

A knock prior
Passively echoing a feeble voice

Shake dry the sultry atmosphere
A brush of moist air passing through

Dive down stairs like submarines learning to sink
Releasing ballast out of habit
Plunge mechanical
Skin rusting
Oiled joints moving with effort
Onto couch cushions-
The very bottom yet just beginning to,
This is where it begins

Trading finger prints with hand shakes-
A continued attempt to show these arms are
Continually striving for contact

Laughter asunder
Subtle oxygen deprivation
Pupils dilate in accordance
With action perceived,
Teeth reveal themselves
Peaking around the corners of a mouth worn upward

Ambient gossamers of cerulean float freely
Two telescopes meeting-
Bashful harmony brushed gently
Into the inner folds
Of knees swollen,
Wading water convinced pressure
Could crush such a thing

A throat ladened dry
Spoke as if swallowed by
The undertow
Gave response to tension-
A note to be read
Until the words are wet and impassive


Wait To Be Seated

Cups of orange juice spilt
Over minor street vocabulary words,
Spoken softly sifted
Through subtle smoke signals
And parenthesis, cued laughter genuine
And honest caught between pauses in sentences
Off timed phrases- “I could piss in the street”
“Well wouldn’t that be a sight to see” she says smiling, quirky
And clueless the silverware hasn’t been touched
Excuses brushed aside with hand motions,
Shy tongues napkins used
To clean the table stumble with
Meaningless phrases like
“I’ll have the chicken cordon bleu”
And “I love you”

A Long Weekend Away

Received in the mail today
An image and handwritten statement
Declaring that someone was somewhere
And they thought of me,
Stamped and dated visiting Paris April 26th,
From Europe over ocean
Great lake to Michigan
To all places I never thought
To inspect

Given context or suppositions,
How do I know when wandering with no destination
In mind that I’m wandering in the right direction?
These trees and faces all look the same
Seen from a distance, following a map of convictions
Hoping this faith in getting lost will somehow
Lead to a place where I’m comfortable
In my own skin, a place occupied with laughter
Vistas vast and brilliant and I can sit for a moment
In company of coincidence and evanescent idleness,

Flipping the Eiffel Tower over
Reveals a string of numbers and letters
That resemble a familiar address
One that I’m still trying to discover


Candles hanging from translucent wire
Glow syllabically
Floating with only,
The vibrancy of their presence,
Circulating about
Flame and parked cars
We speak between flickers of
Wax and December frost,
Table set as if to practice
Being vulnerable,
Drawers flipped open
Recipe books recited
Sung aloud as if confession,
Beer is brewed
Turning the microwave into a still,
Ingredients added like nursing
A sapling heart into beating-
The kitchen quivers in anthemic cadence,
Breathing in relief
In laughter
The repetitive nature
Of going in circles to move forward,
If one night becomes a year
Then let it be known
That we do not stagnate in waiting