you wish for lemons but
life won’t give you lemons,
life won’t even give you apples.
Life gives you rocks,
boulders too large to move, life gives you
stones and
asks you to chew them,
life gives you shit and
claims it’s a smoothie.
Life can’t be trusted,
not with lemons,
not with rocks,
not with anything important;
reject whatever life offers
in all its cruelty,
and build something kind
on your own time.

less than friend

I came for glory,
bloodied, storied,
wishing on what evils lurked in the sky;
I came for you.
I know.
It’s true,
I hoped you wouldn’t feel this reason why.

You held my head to the ground
like the most disloyal hound
and I am less than that,
less than friend, less than dust,
so small and savage in my hope that you
will turn, favorable, with eyes renewed
upon me, seeing at last
everything I want you to.


The jive, the lie, the secret hollows,
the craft, the guilt, the crowd that follows;
charisma, unchained, soon flies
with confidence, virtue, and loftier lies.

Ask not what lurks beneath the surface
of placid lakes without disturbance,
for dwells within the murky reaches
a slimy snaking swell of leeches

Growing New Bones

The boy with bright blue feathers
sprouting in his hair, could sing and
change the weather, could laugh and
fall in love.

The boy with bright blue feathers
could not learn multiplication tables,
and the teacher called the principal, who met with
the councilor, who spoke in hushed tones
with the parents:

The boy with bright blue feathers
blossoming from his back
has no future in insurance, or
accountancy, and no real talent
for numbers.

The boy with bright blue feathers
would grow new bones one day,
gnarled and feathered,
strong wings, strong enough
to carry him away from here.

All Dark on the Highway

Headlights dead, fluids bleeding
a neon trail for the hounds.
Brakes, rusted beyond repair, are not an option,
so rocket beyond control.
Scrape past the slow, barely ahead, chase the
distant lights, the rarer vehicles,
born with functioning radios,
lucky enough to be maintained,
wishing you were born that way, wishing
you were lucky enough.

Be careful as you plummet,
for others are there, all dark
on the highway, all trying
to make up the missing mile, all hoping
to catch up, all willing
to pass by the wrecks.