The delivery man passed my house today

I don’t gaze out the window

all that much.

There’s a whole world

out there

not meant for me.

I’m allowed a patch of fog

and something to read.

I’ve seen my love

and he has a tweed jacket

with elbow patches.

Post-Wednesday (heartburn)

The day is an empty embrace

which I didn’t think was possible

until I started to grow up recently.


I’m buried beneath

years of outward reticence

and inner abandon-

there aren’t enough antacids

to make up the difference.


When a morning breaks

during armageddon,

it’s like trying to trace the outline

of a cloud

when you’re in the middle of it-

there aren’t boundaries

and your body is a vast damp lawn.