saints and sinners.

love lives beneath these sheets.
soft and sharp where
flowers take up arms
ive jumped and fell;
so long.

summer.

sun rises on salt city summer
as people all around me smile.
try harder; ive found the center.

april showers.

early april sun shrouds itself in clouds.
together they dance across sky giving
rain to nutrient starved soil.

prose (look up prosaic)

there we were and here i was quite ready to put down all of the best things that were said tonight. things about how middle class kids could never relate to black angst. things about the worst part was i actually respected your opinion. things about childlike wonder and punctuation and old big dogs. it was going to be amazing and prolific. it was, and then the other half hit.

the truth.

light through blinds in mornings
look through orange colored lenses.
live to laugh yet laugh at life.
space and time and time through space.

mine. yours. ours. theirs.

i write but never anonymously
my secret little life is very simple:
i pine and pine and pine for the woman
whos name i etched in my chest.

home.

yesterday i was there where pelicans taunt tops of waves as children play.
i was home.
today i am here and empty beercans send smokesignals
to sky with sun that makes me sweat. my things are here.
am i home?