Wednesday, March 30, 2016

I'M FINE



as a kid when it comes
to risk you require
a safety net, soft
limits on damages,
nobody needs to die
just yet. you get

older, hit the hard high
ground of mortality: nobody
lives through this. give me
the car keys, i haven't had enough
to drink, we are all going to
die anyway. hope-
fully not today.

Tuesday, March 1, 2016

FRANTICALLY (for Nick Zeckets)



younger, i was a fort-
builder, hunkered down
in doddering bunkers
made out of blankets and old

boxes; constructing solitude within
which i could imagine myself
the lord of something far
larger, a new world order
 
absent bed times or neighbor-
hood borders. now i find myself
a desk-dweller, a free-time hoarder,
stuffing novels inside notebooks

frantically
growing older.