A NAME WRITTEN IN WATER 

October is the cruelest month 
Thin veils and jack-o’-lanterns 
Cackling witches calling us knaves 
Smoke a pack a day until Christmas, till 
Saint Nick doesn’t recognize me anymore 
Nor you, eyes shut and ears ringing 
Out across miles of treetops, sprites dance  
As they’ve done for millennium 
I am not who I was at nineteen, nor even  
That man who clocked-in last week 
The Wise Man once said, “you need a tenant lined up” 
Lest you sweep the house and straighten shelves 
To find a fortnight later, a sight most horrible 
Demons claiming squatter’s rights 
The locks changed decades ago hold firm 
I stare in at someone else  
The blinds shut gently for privacy 
I seethe at the bastard staring back 
A funhouse reflection all that remains 
The odeless nightingale searches for answers 
When the music is gone — Do we wake? Or do we sleep? 

SWEATER WEATHER 
 

We murmur complaints under our breath 
Cursing the breeze we once prayed for 
When we were locked against the grain 
Swept off in the dunes of summer’s bodice 
Orange flowers tell a cruel story 
Of what was lost and won’t be saved 
Low and cold the red wasp flies 
Buzzing against the groaning of the blue flowers’ pallor  
Fading under faint windswept whispers  
Heard uttered softly by autumn’s frigid gaze 
Knowing life ends soon 
Knowing no man stays hollow forever 

DAYDREAM 
 

The fabric of the sky, pilling nearby 
Puffed lint scrabbled across blue nearly white 
Tossed too many times through the wash 
Our favorite hoodie, worn a billion times  
If I could rest up there, atop one tiny cloud 
I’d let the world below scroll by  
Frenetic in its fanaticism; I’d watch 
My head nestled in smoke,  
Moisturized and unbothered 

COME UP OFF THE LET DOWN 
 

I am placing each and every one of you 
High up on your own personal pedestals 
Just so I can watch you tumble 
Crumple like frying bacon upon the ground 
Winds murmur, “Mistah Kurtz — he dead,” 
Stoneworks cracked and discarded 
Where you’ll stare up for eternity, lying 
Disappointed and irrelevant 
Two pennies for your thoughts 
Or just one; for the Old Guy 

REDNECK JULIET 
 

When we first met you were driving the wrong way down the interstate  
              Cops in tow 
LED headlights blinding  
              Wagecucked chattel like me 
I was just another piece of collateral damage 
              Bulldozed in your wake 
You never cared about being the person  
              The targeted ads believed you could be 
 

ARM’S LENGTH 

Hate is  
Spiritual self-harm 
And baby, 
I’m suicidal