Father's

What a great dad.

We've been
playing
hide and seek
for twenty two years.

Breaking up, it's hard to do.

You know
You’re special
When she says
She will leave her life

After it’s too late
And you know
She won’t

Mornings alone poems.

June

June already
Almost two months
I’m better
Better better

Better
I’ve hung
Drawings on my door
Goodbye my Love!

Hello,
My Love
When will you leave?

It’s June June June
My favorite month
And you are still here

Who are we fooling
The weather is hot
I am missing your good nights
Torturing hot

Blame the tears on
The heat heat heat
The heat
Before June




Hallelujah

Hallelujah!
The bruise on my calf is now yellow.
Ryan’s harmonica found it’s way to West Virginia.
I am home alone in an empty town.
My nephew has plastic inside his skull.
He can’t walk yet, can’t talk yet.
My dying dog is playful and young.
The radio repeats itself, “Ping pong”.
Dad left me something green to smoke.
Our vacation pictures are getting developed.
I’ll mail them to you soon.



Untitled

If you ever read my
Understood my
Listened to my
Poetry
You’d still be trying
Calling
Messaging
You’d know
I miss you
I want you
I won’t give in
But all those years I wrote you poetry
Woke you up and sang to you
Made you books and cried
You never got it then
Never tried



Mountain


Mom says,
“Was she really so bad?
Maybe I didn’t see it.
Could you try again?”

Mother,
If I climb up the mountain
With anyone else
I will fall six hundred feet.
But if I sneak away
And climb it alone
I will be happy
With the toilet and clothes.

Even Now

Every lover after
will beg for an explanation
for the raised scars below my navel
for my balancing acts above the overpass

How can I pronounce your name
without saying too much
without getting drunk

Even now,
everyone is tired
of me
slipping you into the conversation
swirling you into my watered rum
and spilling you on their carpet floors