poetry

a drive to work

how do they behave?
how do they feel?
how do they see the world?

a Mormon
on a bike
interrupts
this

I feel
the hardness
of the
steering wheel
in my hands
and see
the sweat
on the men
jogging down
Los Feliz
Boulevard

a homeless
man on a
sidewalk
interrupts
this

he winks
at me

and grins
without
teeth

Standard
poetry

i’m always sorry

she crawled hands and knees on the kitchen floor
crying, breathing shallow, twisted mouth

she pulled my face to hers
she sat in my lap

our electric blues connected
she saw into my soul

she told me I don’t have JOY
or GOD in my heart

that it’s making GOD sad
that she wants to see more of her dad

her heart won’t obey her
“my secret is telling me
not to tell”

I dig my hands into her body
grip her tight
for dear life
dear life

I tell her she is right,

and that I am sorry.

Standard
lists

a list of things currently on the floor of my car*

1. del taco wrappings

2. right shoe, size 6

3. sunflower seeds

4. empty kombucha bottle x3**

5. blueberries from maybe two, three days ago

6. baby food***

7. audio version of Odd and the Frost Giants by Neil Gaiman

8.  one thousand crushed rice cakes

9. yoga mat, purple

10. book, Pinkalicious by Victoria Kann

11. favorite straw hat

12. mini soccer ball, yellow

13. receipt from del taco, separate trip from event #1

14. red and white straw, disconnected from associated cup

15. halloween pencil

16. blue crayon

17. bath toy from a del taco kids meal, a fish that squirts water

18. ice breakers gum

19. half eaten lara bar, apple pie flavor

20. tampon****

* children are disgusting. or maybe I am disgusting.

** 2 GT gingeraids and 1 Health Aid lemon-ginger

*** looks like vomit to the untrained eye

**** not used. yet.

Standard