November 24, 2011

bay hound,
hound bay.
to the

rattling weather.
a simple blue sky
more beautiful then you
or them or i...
the rafters come lower.
the town is over dressed
in out of towners
and one lone dog
cries to the loners.

November 22, 2011

alone at Ihop
numb stare of eyes
the blue of pavement, flecked
maple syrup on my elbows
elbows on the table
conversations like birds
snickering around me
"he was the one with the swollen throat... throat cancer i think.. smoking."
that's an elderly man. sing songy.
"my defects... well i haven't gotten there yet."
a young man. pride.

and then i hide my phone in my lap and play tetris
i pretend to be texting
a black haired boy across the aisle is snapping away at his video game.
not hiding. greasy haired. all in black. not hiding.
i contemplate bulimia.
but i'm already attached to my swelling belly.

i give up.
i twitch and tick. I mind less and less.
why does age take such caring, such pretense away?
screw it, i think. i'm interesting to watch.
i'm hiding and i fit in,
i fit into my hiding place.

November 19, 2011

there are too many poems in my heart
they waste my words on you
they make me alone
sugarless tracks in the snow
dragging my eyes
across bright burning cold.

i saw what i wanted to see
until the truth saw me.