some come to run
like a doe
as though they were built for it

some come to lift
like an ant
with the strength of ten men

some come to heal
properly, fully
doctor’s orders

but all, it seems, leave
relieved of some stress
from life’s hecticity

The first 6 lines were dreamt up in some strange place halfway between waking and sleeping. The rest I wrote behind the counter at Mike’s Fitness, JP at five or six that same morning: Wednesday – September 27, 2017. When I stepped outside to walk to work the sky was full of stars. Orion could be seen most vividly in the pre-dawn cool morning air. The Pleiades star cluster to its west and my favorite star in the night sky, Sirius (only 8.6 light-years away!), to its east. An hour later when doing my rounds at the gym I stepped outside on the balcony to greet Venus, high over the tree line, and watched her radiance seemingly fade—washed-out by the all encompassing light of day and the blue skies that accompany it.



and what are we
but receptacles
for the passions of those
who strike us as knowing?
we overflow
spraying what we say
out of our mouths
inspiring, infecting others
with our words
trying so very hard
to find another vessel or two
(maybe more if we’re lucky)
to pour our souls into
before we stop fountaining
trickle to a drip
and dry up like a twig
to something akin to kindling
a reduction of ourselves
a snap, a spark in the night
and we’re gone

Written: September 21, 2017
A stream of nonsense


I’m tired of thinking about you
each morning, each night
a distress signal
radiates in all directions
received by no one
especially not you

I’m tired
piles of paper, endless pens know me well
they stay blank, full of ink for me
they don’t demand me to be
a better version of myself
but then again—they don’t love me

I’m tired of words and meanings
I’m tired of your image
etched into my neurology
I feel like an acorn
on an endless sandy shoreline
wishing for rich soil, fresh water