Start with a bowl

Sift in flour

Fold with love

Or the batter will be sour

Add some sugar

If you’re feeling sweet

And be gentle

While you beat

Take care while you cook

And put the food on the table

Nourish yourself with kindness

Whenever you are able

Advertisements

Ferns enthusiastically lay into the grass

While gentle clovers whisper into shady gaps

A lawn too large to meet its potential

But short of the horizon

Short of mystery

But still

Long enough to keep the neighbors strangers

Sleepy City

Clouds blanket the town

Soft quilt batting

Urging us to lie down in silence

Or better yet to sleep

The shops are quiet

And driver’s yawn

There is no hurry

To be still

Under a different cloud

So wet was the moss of presence

That no dream sun could bask it dry

So long was the sky of forgetfulness

That even third eyes could not see an end

Not Depressed

Slick, waxen hair

Smoothed down and back

Over and over

Instead of using lip balm

Kisses on oily faces are placed 

Over and over

Tomorrow I’ll take a shower

You tell yourself

Over and over

But rinsing the day away

Seems unimportant

When each day you do nothing

Over and over again

Gone Girl

I don’t even know you

But I want to see

If you’re different now

Than when you were with me

You were bitter then

But also very strong

And forward enough

To record a love song

You seem exactly the same 

In the pictures on Facebook

You have a new girlfriend

But not a new look

It’s been eight years

And eight words between us

So why are you still on my mind

With nothing left to discuss?

Thorn

A thorn whispers

In your wrist

Says you cannot do

That or this

It swells around

Your entire hand 

Throbbing pulsing

You cannot stand

Pretend your fingers

Work just fine

As they rot

And fall off dying

It’s just a scrape

You tell your friends

Denying everything

Until the end

Internet famous

Hello world

Can you hear me now?

Read my good word

Cause I’m taking a bow
Make a wish

On YouTube stars

Avoid the cat fish

Grammar nazis and e-czars
The fifteen minutes of fame

Is for college kids and teens

Any older and you’re lame

A decrepit twenty-sommething