SeptPoWriMo 18

I could remember the first home I left
because it was the first house that I missed
the constant feeling of being bereft
knowing you own only what you resist
how many friends are gone along the way
the paths you didn’t know that you would take
memories are too flexible to stay
in one place long enough for them to make
a journey within not walking distance
roads too easy for you alone to tread
companions they make all the difference
the crumbs you leave become your daily bread
I pick you up each time we cannot meet
the closed circle a new friend may complete

SeptPoWriMo 17

When I hear the score to the musical 
I think of when I first listened to it
on a library record player my
first year of college it was not homework
for I had no idea where home might be
I might have been avoiding my roommate
(algorithms would have chosen better)
just a young kid I was with too long hair
wondering what the songs would sound like
in a phase of life I had not known yet
neither single nor yet getting married
but following all the chords and the rhymes
flowing so fast before they could arrive
lacking company for being alive

AugPoWriMo 24

The TV musical 
loses all perspective
when the performers
break into song

and dance as if
they cannot be bound
to the aspect ratio
of the screen

this is how we change:
carry the message
from one dimension
to another

next thing you know
the song is in your head

AugPoWriMo 19

Songs from summers past 
rise suddenly to the surface
though the days
bear no resemblance

except in the feeling
of everything ending
and nothing else yet
starting to begin

if clocks still worked
they would keep time
with this in between season
since its resonance lasts

long beyond remembrance
a minor key deliverance

AugPoWriMo 8

Tree outside our front door 
is convinced it’s time
to change seasons hence
the spattering of yellow leaves
untended in the grass
soon enough the tree will be bare
and we will see from here to there
again a condition of growing
too accustomed to the heat
wildfires burning on repeat
dragging across the continent
too late for us to repent
world is overpopulated with leave
so burn and give us something to believe

AugPoWriMo 7

Waking up is strange
unaccustomed to a familiar room
simple to fall back asleep
remembering occurrences
that would not have a place
were it not for this room
and your place within it
at some point before you left
have you returned or is it a dream
for the future to misinterpret
as nostalgia for what never happened
a home is a life not just lived in
the habitual forgotten
replaced by interruption for a time

JulyPoWriMo 28

The new phase is the same as the old phase 
one step forward and infinite steps back
of course health is not the priority
grandstand where you have no ground to stand on
maybe human sacrifice is the norm
all for the sake of gross entertainment
ratings don’t matter so much as eyeballs
gouged out and replaced with new QR codes
linking to a 404 not found page
new home of confidence in the system
created dysfunction reality
the fairness doctrine could not regulate
so it was let go for the sake of lies
we couldn’t even see with our own eyes

JulyPoWriMo 14

Anticipating rigor of travel 
is its own journey as evidenced by
the still unpacked suitcase in the hallway
holding forgotten remnants of the past
distracted by random pictures we took
of auspicious holidays returning
every year the invention of clockwork
reminds us of how long it’s been since then
cannot count the moments stacked in between
laying sideways out on the horizon
anxieties arrive like taking off
into a blue unknown onion unseen
liminal spaces dither at the gate
the was and the not yet will have to wait

JulyPoWriMo 13

There was a moment sitting in front of 
the TV with ninety five percent of
the planet also watching the same thing
it seemed mass communication would solve
all the world’s problems bring us together
solve hunger by throwing money at it
the problem was we kept inventing more
ways of massively communicating
some did not think hunger was a problem
now I regard screens reasonably sure
ninety five percent of the other screens
could not even tune into this channel
the one that nostalgia plays on repeat
tiny fragments stay alone incomplete

JulyPoWriMo 12

Everything is on the verge of being 
so much more awful and normal right now
easy to neglect the headlines shouting
each one is more important than the last
when they are just the latest version of
summer repeats the long running building
collapse the casual insurrections
sabotaging how people are counted
the ones who took the wait and see approach
seeing their way into the waiting room
followed by the ER if they’re lucky
ninety nine percent doing something wrong
the silent majority full of shit
the rest of us just getting back to it