Winter Drive

i crawl slowly down
snow-covered, slippery roads
rubber bonding with

asphalt to keep me
tethered to reality
as my mind tries to

slip into other
avenues of thought like so
much ice underfoot


Election 2016

Last night I cried,
let the brine wash my skin
in a million dying hopes.

Today I scrubbed away
the salt crystals and
put on my armor,
so as not to let them see
the bruises.

I will not go quietly
into the night,
but rather kicking and screaming.
And I will bruise them back.

God’s Little Angel

October 4th, 2003 – August 25th, 2015

I remember the scent of your shampoo,
and the warmth of the cotton sleeper
I dressed you in for bed.

Only, you never made it to bed.
Not for a while, at least.
You cried for hours, so sad and scared,
probably wondering where your mother had gone,
and who the strange girl was,
trying to lay you down in your crib.

I held you that night,
letting your tears soak my shirt.
Eventually you fell into an exhausted sleep,
and I placed you gently into your crib,
and slept on the couch next to it.

And when you woke up in the night,
still so sad and scared,
I held you then, too,
until your mother came home to tend you.

Now I hold your mother,
and it’s her tears that soak my shirt.
It’s one of life’s little mysteries,
why God calls back his little angels
so early. Too early.
Still, there’s a comfort to be felt
knowing you are now in a place
where no earthly pain can touch you.

And one day, you will be returned
to your mother’s loving embrace.

In loving memory of my cousin, Derek, who died too young.

Jokers Right, Clowns Left

You read me like a book, you say,
to which I have to laugh.
What’s there to glean from empty pages;
don’t you understand?
I’m a master of my craft.
It’s a game of play pretend.
With my bag of tricks,
and some joker’s quick wit,
I bring the crowd their kicks.
Though now, it’s the clown being played.
But I’d gladly condescend to claim,
you know the face behind the name.