I am a lived in contradiction
I am a walking false prescription
I wear denim jeans with coffee stains on my sleeves
There are dog ears on my memory.
I watch silver beads,
Drip from the cliff side.
I knew words before they were friendly
I knew that girl before she was pretty.
And the sidewalk dream,
Has a mezzanine,
Little people smoke cigarettes and [...]
Archive for August, 2008
Late to the Party
Posted in Poetry, tagged Cities, Daughters, Drinking, Family, Friendship, IRS, Ox, Poetry, Zeus on August 29, 2008 | Leave a Comment »
The Ghost of Mickey Mouse
Posted in Uncategorized on August 25, 2008 | Leave a Comment »
This is easily the scariest thing I have seen in my entire life.
Moving Mans Blues
Posted in Poetry, tagged Cats, Children, Drinking, Moving, Olympia, Poetry, Telephones on August 17, 2008 | Leave a Comment »
Walk and stumble and start and sleep,
Wake and wash and rumble and repeat.
We pack our things into boxes from the liquor store.
The cat is confused, he tries to follow us out the door.
There is dust and hair and grime and dirt.
There is fresh carpet and chemicals and puke green countertops.
There are smaller boxes with flashing [...]
Speak to the Rushing Water
Posted in Poetry, tagged villanelle on August 9, 2008 | 2 Comments »
I never knew what to say.
I’d mumble greetings toward my feet,
Dad would nudge my shoulder, “Look them in the eye.”
Early summers, fishing out at the bay,
We’d catch and throw in silence, an enormous defeat,
And down below the plankton, they had something to say.
Where did time fly and leave me astray?
Each intersection was one I couldn’t [...]
The Taking
Posted in Poetry, tagged Backseats, Bainbridge Island, Cars, Christianity, Cigarettes, Clocks, Dave, Fort Ward, Francis Nash, Friendship, Laramie, Mary, Memory, Nietszche, Parties, Planes, Quotationalism, Visions, Washington, Wyoming on August 1, 2008 | Leave a Comment »
It isn’t clear if I was misguided or misled,
Standing in the backyard banks with my hands deep in my pockets, waiting to get back in the car, watching the lights inside that house, with the windows boarded up, the cracks of light seeking in the gaps.
This feeling was getting harder to ignore.
Then came the floodlights [...]
