Monthly Archives: September 2013

Comments, Posts and Updates

We take greater care wording our connections
with these online friendships,
but the things we say
no longer rely on other peoples memories,
but are archived as tweeted opinions
and status updates
where taking something back
no longer involves an apology
when all you need to do is delete
what was once
just a passing moment.


I have medicated cream

that cover the blisters on my feet,

they only come on days like this

when the stress combines itself with raw humidity

and I forget to be more careful.

Now walking becomes tricky and sticky

as I look for balance on the heels of my feet.

I’m Running Out Of Redeemable Qualities

I think I just really want to fuck her.

I don’t because she’s only twenty-two

and don’t worry,

I never forget to pat myself on the back

for being such a good guy, but it’s all a joke.

I wouldn’t need half the chance to say yes,

but I always make sure I’m far enough away

so I never have to worry that

my mouth might get me into trouble,

because sometimes when she looks at me

I can see she bites her bottom lip and tilts her head in my direction.

I think I’m destined to go to hell,

even if only

because she always

winds up carrying sex into the our conversations.

Movement Strategies

That same time has come again,
this anticipation of flight
where the change of location
will become so vast
that my alphabet will be forgotten
and my body will grow accustomed
to different kinds of food,
but these hands will still feel the earth,
my face will recognize the sun.
All I’m waiting for now is the shift,
something so strong
it can only be called blatant
and as I prepare myself
all I give myself are maps and strategies
an enough time to pack my bags.
I want to walk across borders,
between languages,
I want my fingers to learn the language of railings,
something to guide this blind ambition
where places once again become
somewhere to meet,
no longer where I’m from,
or where I’m going
just the moving ground
beneath my worn-out shoes
as a constant, something that can live past the reminder
and flow with the lives
that are ready to survive.


When I look back

I want to know what face was mine,

I want my deeds to be something recognizable

among other lives

to have someone say that I helped them

that something that I’ve done might ripple

and the way I landed on this earth

would be like hitting the surface of the water,

sinking into it,

joining those who’ve gone fearlessly into the future

and the past

in one final moment.

Projected Standards

Some people just ask too many questions,

it’s like their nerves kick into overdrive

and they begin to project a desire to know

all the things

they’ve never actually cared about before.

I can see it in the way their eyes dance

like pupils jumping through hoops

out into the great unknown

where only the last one listening

can become the sole survivor

in a world where opinions

are used as swords rather than shields

and the only standards we have

seem only

applied to other people.

Me Time

Sometimes I just can’t wait to be alone

where I can give myself that feeling

of having nothing around me

and no one to interrupt my silence.

I’m not built like most

I have no need for interaction

and for me

isolation is my only medication,

taken only when I feel sick

where every once in a while

being the only one around

is all I need

to step back into the crowd.