Selected Poems 2016 - Present

Rainbow Sign

I give myself permission in

This world where

Unblinking, Coyote needs eye drops

Prostrate on I-59 a totem of something

That I have forgotten

And then remember each morning

7:12 there it is again

Hello Coyote,

Love is patient, kind

But even with my

Unconditional-positive-regard engaged

Your eyes are wide and still

Some things just end

My yearning run over by:

“They closed the Bojangles on Hawthorne;

They drove the average home price up

Two hundred percent.”

But still, I close my eyes, Coyote, and I love them too

Because they can’t stop it anyways,

God damn it—and She will

Mr. Hawk, drop that fish in my mouth

Let’s chase each other

Fledged in childhood dreams over

Morning commute rainbow

At last, it seemed all I needed was to

Make my legs tired

To wake up and melt back into it all

Vibrating with wine splash confidence

Poem for Mom

This poem first appeared in 2020's Reflections on Generosity and Thanks published by ELLA Library.

At some point I became convinced

That Yukon Golds

Made the best mashed potatoes

The evidence was likely slim

And based on color alone

A sandy beach at first morning light

Or the alpenglow of Eastern Sierra

On the Alabama Hills

Yellow, golden

Creamy and freckled with bits of black pepper

I spent too much time angry

I know now at what

But it was never whatever I said it

Was

Mental health is tricky like that

Targets move and blame reverberates

Solidifying excuses on shaky foundations

God forgive me for raging tempers, slamming doors

I am infinitely thankful for love yet still

Afraid of where to put it

Shining

Swirling

Golden

Arrangements

This poem first appeared in the 2018 edition of UTC's Sequoya Review

when I’m dead

do whatever with the body

but put a pot of coffee on in the kitchen

any kitchen

bring everyone into the room and

let the smell fill the space between

those gathered

some standing some sitting

we will be closer for it

move somewhere else

and play "Banshee Beat"

over speakers

please no one talk

close your eyes when Avey sings

I’ll bet he needs a shower

then go outside and look

directly into the sun

try to understand time

as a human invention

and that the first law of

thermodynamics requires

that we are together still

no matter the composition

and if you can find it in you

please everyone be kind

for a little while

Dawn Redwood

Metasequoia glyptostroboides,

bodhisattva

of the late Cretaceous,

thank you

for sticking around in a pocket of the forest

wandering to Portland

and Tennessee

directing attention up

out

then in

bless you

Bassett Hound

From the rhythm of pain

I’ve gleaned a few lessons

That I don’t expect to share

anytime soon

But the budding or shedding

or growth or decay

and the second-hand dancing

to the beat of its own drum

and encouraging so many of us

to follow

is the same

as most everything

Vernon said no free history

but poetry doesn’t quite work like that

so if you get something

you don’t owe me nothing

and we can even print off a separate copy

of the receipt if you’d like

Forty-five degrees

to pour India Pale Ale into glass

or to describe something mathematical

and for once seem aware

but everyone is always

more or less estimating

I don’t mind so much

when they’re wrong

it’s just that I never miss what I’m aiming for

even if I don’t see it

until the car crashes

god damned astigmatism