I need to take my camera

To a repair shop

All pictures are dark

And faded

No light gets in

As if the camera was sucked into a black hole

Where it can’t breathe


I see everything through the lens of death

I can’t see light anymore except as

The absence of darkness


The absence of you

Is what turns my eyes inward


The absence of you

Is the absence of meaning

And the absence of quiet

And the absence of rain upon my face

After a long hot summer day

Or the absence of applause

When the music ends


The lens of death is a lens that can never focus

Except on distant objects

On distant times and places


Darkness is sandpaper

It rubs off my resolve

To breathe


You were a soft cloth

That could keep my lens clear

And help me see

More than the darkness in front of me

Wide Open


Mouth agape

As if to say

No one is home

And you, steadily

Rocking back and forth

On your heels

Waving goodbye to me

And I

Steadfast like a mountain lion

Watching prey approach

Look in the mirror and

Wonder when my soul left my body

And why the wind blows through

My heart


But still open

Graphic Hearts


A cat running from the kitchen with grease all over its fur

A dropped cigarette

An early morning audience

These are the signatures of the artists that I’ve loved

I’ve had designs

Theirs were better

One didn’t love

One wouldn’t love

One probably never knew

But I couldn’t tell her anyway

I could never even tell myself

These are those whose works hang

On the hooks of my soul

Like the stars outside

That the astronauts

Now earthbound

Now making a final inspection

Of their vehicle to the heavens

Just touched

And like them

I look up longingly and say

“I was just up there”



A paramotor pilot

Runs across the field

With a motor on his back

A wing above his head

A world waiting to be seen

And I run into trouble the same way

I have climbed into the unwashed skies

But with eyes closed 

Head on a pillow

Trying to rest

After I’ve given away

My legacy

For naught

My wings are tied to my past

If I let go

I may not fly

But I might walk away



He moves fast as a whip, she said

Which means that he avoids conflict

And barbs

And quiet walks in the square

Where people can see him

But somehow, he moves through the world

Without fear

His hesitation is his savior

And his countenance his shield

He doesn’t remember the last time he loved

That’s a whole lot better than me

I remember how the sun shone on my face

I move slowly through the universe

I don’t want to be seen

Because they might find out who I am 

Deep down

Where the whip lands

And never stops flailing

I never stop flailing

I never stop wanting

I did for a while once

With her

But then I was whipped away

Too painful

Too sharp

Too fast



The sound of the tape being peeled off my skin

Keeps me humble

I don’t want to be ripped from you the same way

But you say it’s for your own good

And I say it’s an ill-considered fate

Like putting on the wrong size skates

Or standing on the edge of the train platform in your bare feet

Or spending all your money on a lottery ticket

The day after the jackpot has been awarded

You were my ticket

My prize

Not because I had you

But because I gambled

And I lost eventually

But for one moment in the sun

My name was called

And I had the fortune of the Gods

In The Wilderness


If God looked at me

And saw that I am nothing

Like She imagined

Would she still reject me

The way some women do?

Would she say,

“No, You’re a lovely guy,

But I am looking for a different type

To partner in the work of creation.”

Such is my spiritual dilemma.

No Tinder or Match or eHarmony or OKC

(Well, maybe JDate)

For this type of relationship.

Just a walk in the fields

And a prayer that I find my way



(for Blair)



Fire burning

Heat of summer

Loins humming

Heat of summer

Rain falling

Heat of summer

You’re calling

Heat of summer


Can’t hear your voice

Through the heat

Can’t feel your mind

Through the street

Want to know

Where to meet

Somewhere deep in

Heat of summer


Angels call

In the summer

Night falls

In the summer

Tear down walls

In the summer

Back to the All

In the summer

Back to the All

In the summer

Back to the All

In the summer

Neuro ICU


In the hours before I opened my eyes

To the long nights ahead of no sleep

I could see a sliver of sound

And waterfalls of tears

And a hand grasping

And no one shouting at anyone

Then the air was still

I oh so briefly slept

Dreaming of morning

Dreaming of the sound

Of the air moving along my fingertips

As I counted the minutes till you left

Most Interesting


The most interesting thing about me

Is hard to explain

It’s like what happens when you tear the roof

Off your house, and find 

The inside has disappeared

That’s how I feel on rainy days

And when she said “No way in hell.”

And when I laughed at the diagnosis.

I am not the sum of the parts that are so interesting,

But I am glad the parts are there

Hanging by a thread

Or a wire

Or a thought

Or something that was whispered on the wind.

The most interesting thing about me is that I am alive.