clothesline

I need new threads
my wadrobe is dying old
the space smells rusty
starving for purpose
I need new tags
for a new hanging
a fresh rustle when I bounce
 

 

1am

I am a night wing

the starlight lifts me higher

The universe gets personal

not an Icarus reckoning

but transcending the fall

 

 

 

 

Sparse

I wrote far before
now I write harder
my attention eclipsed
the melody jaded
I write like a drought now

The Worst Day

Was the saddest day
to fly to heaven
They crashed in war fields
shot down by war fiends
And the world played politics
kept feeding the demons

Journey well victims of Malaysian flight MH17
We mourn you

City Specter

I’ve caught up
with my shadow
spilled into the black hole
Brooklyn caught my specter
on the J train to distance
The city blends my secret
with 8 million wisps