The boy in the house with the blue
door buys nail polish at the corner store...
It’s the end of this blink, breath
second...
words
loose-limbed...
is a
privilege...
This morning, I listened to smooth jazz
in your honor, urging the saxophone...
transparent words; the strings still dangle
from the same lips that sprouted them...
I rarely cry anymore,
but when I do, it's when...
I feel most at home
when it's raining...
My alcoholism
controls everything I do...
Again, June came -- uninvited,
shadows glimmer as I think about...
The good
Lord does not grant...
Hide it within smoke and mirrors,
Slink into the black and fear...