It was probably nothing but it felt like the world.
I just want to be friends, plus a little extra, also I love you.
The bed itself is an operating table where my dreams slice me to pieces.
I’m scared as hell to want you. But here I am, wanting you anyway.
Of course I’ll hurt you. Of course you’ll hurt me. Of course we will hurt each other. But this is the very condition of existence. To become spring, means accepting the risk of winter. To become presence, means accepting the risk of absence.
Imagine if people’s hair color matched their eye color
/every person who has brown hair and brown eyes sighs deeply
A good laugh and a long sleep are the two best cures for anything.
Be humble for you are made of earth.
Be noble for you are made of stars.
Lay down these words
Before your mind like rocks.
placed solid, by hands
In choice of place, set
Before the body of the mind
in space and time:
Solidity of bark, leaf or wall
riprap of things:
Cobble of milky way,
These poems, people,
lost ponies with
Dragging saddles —
and rocky sure-foot trails.
The worlds like an endless
Game of Go.
ants and pebbles
In the thin loam, each rock a word
a creek-washed stone
with torment of fire and weight
Crystal and sediment linked hot
all change, in thoughts,
As well as things.
from Riprap and Cold Mountain Poems,Counterpoint, 2010.
You were made to be kissed, often and well.
For lonely people, rain is a chance to be touched.