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  • A coffee for the mad?

  • Am I doomed to always be too much?

    Am I destined to listen to the birds croon as I 
    clench my own hand through the dark?

    How I long to repair my lead glass heart,
    its cullet scattered beneath my skin

    Oh, to be a kaleidoscope,
    held to the mirror so even in the shards,
    I may be beautiful

    Will my love always be received with latex gloves?

    February 16, 2026
    Poetry

  • Polaris

    Mom knew I loved outer space so like a wandering star
    she slipped into my bedroom
    constructed the cosmos on the ceiling with cheap tacky,
    a glow-in-the-dark nebula of comets and stardust

    And in the light of the aurora,
    she carefully painted my walls carnation pink
    with a baby blue trim
    and hemmed clandestine gardens of
    fairies romping in flowers yet to bloom
    Often in twinkling nights,
    the fairies would waltz
    along with her soft hum in the distance

    And when my world was enveloped in darkness,
    black holes ever cavernous,
    I’d look up to Mom’s constellations
    and remember how she gave me the sky.
    February 16, 2026
    Poetry

  • I hope my last words are dirty

    after K

    I hope my last words are dirty

    I hope I am survived by a bittersweet symphony of
    spasmodic giggles and vulgar cries

    I’ll sneak into my night on timid tiptoes and
    whisper sharp nothings into your pinned ears

    I’ll be the light at the end of the tunnel,
    composing a tight five on your paper lungs

    I hope my last words are dirty
    For I no longer desire to be so certain of what is on the other side

    But rather, 
    to be certain that I will be survived by gentle eye rolls and
    tacit grins - 

    Signs of life well lived.
    February 16, 2026
    Poetry

  • Lap Dissolve

    I know I had too much to drink
    I don’t know what I was wearing
    or how long it took you to get into my bed
    I remember the lapses in my memory and
    the lack of judgment in yours

    I know I had too much to drink
    and I know you were wholly conscious
    You promised to take care of me,
    tell me, where did you stow your conscience?

    And maybe the actions don’t make the man, but
    maybe his excuses do

    I know I didn’t say yes
    or maybe or soon or later

    I said nothing
    during your reckless abandon of me
    I said nothing
    because I was under an influence
    I said nothing
    because I should have been at rest
    I said nothing 
    to aid and abet your stained glass reputation
    while cutting myself on the shards of my memory

    In the darkness,
    I said nothing

    I said nothing
    I said nothing
    I said nothing
    February 16, 2026
    Poetry

  • Minnewaska

    Singsong serenades from Black-Capped Chickadees
    Clammy bodies like a skein across the trail 
    Cr-cru-crun-crunch of Autumn leaves under feet
    Backpacks like boulders on Sisyphus’s sleepy shoulders
    Unleashing nose-wrinkling odors of spoiled onion and meat

    And when we finally find nature’s Swarga Loka
    Our shriveled tongues panting for sweet relief
    We dance in freezing waters like Sarasvati
    And slide like skipping stones down smooth springs
    A bucolic paradise of cerulean blue and emerald green

    Oh, these halcyon days.
    February 16, 2026
    Poetry

  • How do you mourn the living?

    Bare hands dig a grave in unsullied ground

    You bury the memories,
    and pray a flower blooms.

    February 16, 2026
    Poetry

  • Ode to My Blister

    You,
    Unsuspecting foot meets Lego
    Lemon juice in my papercut
    You, 
    Cassette tape strung-out
    Wasp sting on my middle finger
    
    I prodded and I pricked until the life oozed out of you
    Irritation abounds my cornered body
    Longing to run away once more
    And for you, 
    You, thump on my funny bone, 
    You, uneven eyeliner wing
    For you to disappear as fast as you forged
    
    Oh, how I wish you’d leave my cleaved sole
    How I demand you never return
    How I pray the pressure alleviates and the friction relieves
    How I long for you, 
    
    You, ads on the radio, 
    You, car in both parking spots, 
    You, high-school-friend-turned-MLM,
    
    How I long for you to vanish,
    and I to heal.
    
    
    February 16, 2026
    Poetry

  • And my Dog Steals a Hamburger from the Table

    Mother begs me to apologize
    Impassive I tell her
    that’s just what dogs do
    the meal was out for the taking
    and my dog wasn’t trained well
    but I can’t help but think
    I am not unlike when Mary
    goes to the bar and 
    Mike tries to slip his hand up her skirt
    and the bartender says
    she should have worn pants.
    February 16, 2026
    Poetry

  • Common Ground

                                                                                     she was black coffee 

    pure, bitter,

    unafraid of darkness

    he added some sugar and little creamer and
    she became the sweetest part of his morning. now she
    is the one to begin his day, to make sure he is
    feeling like himself. he will consume her 'til he
    is well, he will sip her scent until her aroma has
    become home. he will want to gulp her until she
    is gone. he will surely burn his tongue on her fervor.
    February 16, 2026
    Poetry

  • He is made of forgiveness

    But what to do when I can’t forgive You?
    Prayer hands around my neck
    Tears against burning cheeks
    like smoldered ashes
    A nail for each leg, uncrossed

    A flood, a fire, a death among friends – 
    Where does the omnipotent go to hide? 
    February 16, 2026
    Poetry

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