assorted fragments from the depths of an unorganized book bag

poetry is the way you feel when you think about a girl sitting in the car when it's raining when you are listening to a band called nirvana

poetry is the way you think about a girl when it's raining when you are listening to nirvana

poetry is the girl when it's raining listening to nirvana
poetry is the girl raining to nirvana
poetry is the girl nirvana
poetry is nirvana

sometimes….poetry is what you don’t say

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Airport 5:52 AM

stretched-out feet-up waiting for the plane
to take her away from here
staring at the wall the column the dark sky
the mirrored window reflecting the light inside
waiting to fly away
the familiar face you’ve never seen before
and want to know
earphones seal her from this world
wondering where she is
and where she’s going
as we both wait to fly away
we’re on different flights

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On Reading The Death of a Salesman

everybody’s looking for a hero
someone who won’t fall
everybody’s looking for a hero
a rock to cling to in the pounding surf
may God have mercy on the heroes
the men who can’t fall
may God have mercy on the heroes
they’ve clay feet all
and may God have mercy on the heroes
for they are our ideal and goal
and they know the lie you’ve made them

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In the stillness a heartbeat rolls
through the silent words speaking worlds
time’s authority ignored
animation suspended in a second eternally extended
as the heartbeat rolls

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Stop
freeze time
slice the fabric
step out of this world
as it heals behind
standing firmly
on nothing at all