PAD 10

There is a full body groove
in my couch, a mold
I could live in its comfortable arms.

PAD 9

These days are all blending down to one
a kaleidoscope,
mish-mash of blurred scenes.

PAD 8

When I think of this year
what I will see most will be static
white noise of trying to tune into the universe.

PAD 7

How can we forget chains?
They melted them down to forge bars and bullets.

PAD 6

They say if we
are more polite
sit up straighter
quantify our desires with more "pleases" and "thank you's"
and "yes sirs" and "ma'ams" and "boss"
If we are
quieter
neater
bow-tied and shoe-shined
They will allow us to survive and thrive--
up to a tangible point.

PAD 5 2015

Prayers hang in the air,
over-ripened fruit
desiring the universe because they asked politely.

They sing hymns
to the risen, the rose, the rising

The dead
or dying.  The shackled moaning.

A ghost

Apparitions of faith.

PAD 4 2015

Waves, we are lapping
at a shore that gets
Further and further away.

PAD 3 2015

We are standing in the precipice, watching
dark clouds roil
thunder makes spontaneous connections with the earth
and all we can do is secure ourselves
latch ourselves to life
and survive.

PAD 2

We are no longer at an intersection
or we are, but
not perpendicular streets
not in the same city
not even at the same time.

PAD 2015

I have affixed invisible tape to my eyelids
struggling to keep them open
to relive one more second of a half-dream.