Saturday, April 28, 2012

I love when things aren't what they seem.
Like a poem that raises your hopes.
And your spirit lifts more with every line.
But then you get to the very last line,
and you realize it's about death.

Friday, April 27, 2012

The Bright Veneers

scrawling with
elbow moving right to left
right left
heel tapping
Orange, yellow,
blue and pink
and bright,
so bright.
I am sick
cornered, sick
and separate.
So angry
and I am muted, light
and see through.
I am assumed
as something slow
can't keep up,
not bright enough.
I am nothing.
But I see mirrors.
scrawling with
elbow moving right to left
right to left
legs crossed and
heel tapping, but
air in silence.
I move words across paper.
You move numbers.
But there is no credit here
No boasting brightness,
not for me.
It's so basic.
A classroom,
a study hall.
With assigned seats.
A group in front left,
radiating brightness.
Teacher delighted.
But wait!
Who is that in the
back right, alone?
"Put the phone away."
"It's a book..." you should try reading one sometime.
Teacher looks away without response.
For the fourth time. By the fourth teacher.
I must be nothing.
These people,
these "bright" people,
they're knockoffs.
They cheat,
and lie.
Community Service:
Holding the door for an old lady
turns into 20 hours at a nursing home
on an application.
One finished homework is enough
for an entire class.
Mommy will call and take care of everything.
And if that ninety-eight won't do,
Mama's gonna buy you one hundred and two.
So bright.

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

A right, not a privilege

Mr. Ivy League...
I'll take no answers from you.
How strange,
you've never been denied before.
I must be insane
and for the record
maybe so,
but here
my point is clear.
You're an enabler.
Don't think-
they never do
unless they have to.
And they have to.
Unless you hand it to them.
And you do.
It's selfish,
Stealing their chances.
To feel important.
Mr. Ivy League,
That is something
You are not.

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

I'll take Insanity With a side of Lost And a glass of Confusion

I think I am so close
to the line.
It could not even exist.
Left is usual and right is blurry,
but below my feet
they come together
and I might fall.
I am so close.
I think I am so close
if I speak
I will meet
and I might fall.
The line, where
I ask for usual back.
The only place that
I'll ever ask,
but I don't mean it.
I promise

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

And every silence is the end to another reaction
When did yesterday become today?

Monday, April 16, 2012


I live in a closet. 
A closet made of glass. 
On the edge of a sidewalk,
centered in town.
Where eyes skim, but never see. 
Where silence escalates into something palpable.
Where faces peer as
footsteps ascend and fade.
and fade and fade and fade.
A coffee is compliance to a million questions
by bodies too familiar. 
The pharmacy
is oxygen for lies to exhaust.
Every action is oxygen.
To take, to breath
and steal.
Until you're left,
beaten into 
a closet made of glass. 

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

So plenty

Freshmint tic tacs
and lemon honey chapstick
would be
and done
and easy
and simple.
lets not make things
I'm not capable
of any of
300 pages later
and I don't know
what I'm doing anymore..

Thursday, April 5, 2012


Glass silhouettes 
balanced on the
red horizon 
You exhale
I lift up,
back against the sun.
From the center,
Glass silhouette
fall back to the
red horizon