read up

premeditated

fears predate

the collateral

twisted words

curdle like

milk

why must the

peonies dance

when i crave

the pumpkin seed

a wrangled stem

reaches up

to wrap around

my mind

her eyes open

in the first hours

of the day

for the first time

she cries

though she has not seen

the light

a sudden

downpour

rainstorm

of news

nothing is certain

but everything

is possible

is it not

the question

of whether

our hearts

can take it?

she will not stand

for this

she will not

break

it sprinkles

cascades

hurricane winds

cannot falter

the avalanche

the impertinence

of existence

the audacity

nay

the joy

the color of California

is saccharine death

plastic green

among decaying fronds

the scent of suburbia

is wet grass

and dog shit

do you remember

the ice box

and the neighbors who danced

the chaotic silence

of a bookshop

i chew on the dust

of what was

ink drips

from worn pages

there is no better

excuse

for happiness

than the warmth

of love

don’t speak of

heartache

if you’ve never

burned for the

smallest things

in life

never before

have i been so

impending

like doom

or spring

why do words

and syllables

collide

in my head

stumbling into sentences

that somehow

sometimes

make sense

my words drip

like honey

from a bear

overflowing with

memories

unsullied

but worn from love

perhaps the way

we remember

is merely

a curation

of feelings

the three pieces

of my heart

finding the beauty

in the dust

i’m looking for a place

to grow my garden

spread my palms

in the earth

searching for a place

that feeds my soul

digging deep

into the crevices

of the every day

to pick out the juicy parts

buried deep in the underbelly

lifting the folds

licking the rinds

taking the bitter with the sweet

i wear the heat like a pack

death is the undercurrent

all will be forgotten