“It began with all the poetry weirdos & worriers, warriors, / Poetry whiners & winos falling from ship bows, sunset / Bridges & windows.”
“This is the poem that cries on street corners / and plays at being lost. / This is the poem arranged at a tilt / so all the words slide off.”
“My mother pointed out how the poor / have only potatoes for dinner, their faces / so rough they looked unearthed themselves.”
“And now here’s God again with His hand / crank, lowering the sky to make more room / for Himself.”
“On days off / it still goes in— / wrecking balls are / workaholics.”
“Though there was subtlety in how Miles muttered, / One always ached to hear a song line uttered / With definition, lyrical and real.”
“Now I’m watching my cohort / master the skills at each grade / of incapacity / and get promoted to the next.”
“Who I was depended. / I feared consensus / because stupidity lies / in numbers.”
Poetry: “when jack practiced downstairs / i wouldn’t dance / exactly but loosened to the sound.”
Poetry: “As in the affairs of men, / no gulf stream setting forever in one direction.”