Poetry, Prose, Art, Photography, Curiosities

rose water

lovers cling to you

like cigarette smoke

a tequila hangover

conway twitty songs

yesterday’s perfume


in the bottom of my wardrobe

lies a pair of ballet flats

that still contain

Santa Barbara beach sand

from three years ago

for reasons in no way related

to Santa Barbara

or love of the ocean

house fire

the love of a poet is a house fire

all consuming

burned rafters

wedding china shattered

baby pictures lost

yet when there is nothing left

but the sun and smoke to rise

you will find

the words made it out alive

number two

he loved everything

in pencil


the only things

i don’t blame him for

are all the earrings i lost

song of the south

I think back on the backwards behaviors I witnessed growing up.

The hateful tendencies modeled for me, with a blessed few exceptions that glisten with rarity.

I cannot blame people who were and remain too ignorant to conduct themselves any differently, but I will never forget. To forget is to fall victim to the past.

Family does not always equate with goodness if its members are bad apples, you see.

I grew to emulate sickness, as children learn what they live, but matured toward enlightment eventually.

It’s okay to trust, to be honest, to love completely.

I have benefited from these heartbreaking moments. Bestowed upon me was a how-not-to guide.

What was broken inside me by the dysfunction of other people, is still mine to fix… and I’m trying, damn it, even succeeding regularly.

So, if I miss a few family reunions from now until the end of time, don’t bother forgiving me.

place settings

I thought that I loved you,

but it was just your talent for lying

over candlelight.

Liturgy of the Hours

every night you were away

i sought you out

through blackberry bramble ether

from weeping constellations above dixmyth avenue

to jessamine county barns filled with horse hay

perpetually wrapping blue ribbon around my finger

whispering vespers

my plea to the particles of the universe

to hold you together

to bring you back from oblivion

as you had done for me

you are my chosen family

inextricably part

of my thunderous heart

to which you will always hold the latchkey

fainting goat

every day

with him

was the last day

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