it’s morning, and raining.

I’m getting ready for work and it’s raining again. The other day the kitchen window was leaking and water spilled onto the floor from paint bubble pockets that formed in the wall.

potato head and plant

all the cars are lined up on the street
little lego bugs
following each other home.
I wish you were right here
wish you were in that tree
keep wishing
we keep living on after everone dies.

some night, somewhere.

in car at night

goodbye bicycles

in left hand corners

tucked up for the

glass-winged night.

I keep my act together

feeling you in my

right hand

keeping quiet now.

stars blink out

blue-black curtain falling

naked behind the trees.

we’ve got blueberry faces

and we’re not washing

our hands.

ode to returning

ode to returning


there is no other place

and when I return,
it will be for the last time.

thinking they were you
I played some old records

every ruthless chair will turn away
ending on your shore

washed up from your face,
even my stories will be you.
the voice of every poem,

the green in every tree.

a yellow room.
golden glowing mornings,
and blue mountains of buildings.
dusky red brick twilights –
the getting out of keys in doorways.