Posts
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Thunder and the Boat
we're lying,
resplendent
as corpses
on the deck
of our boat,
staring into
the folds of
the universe's
moth-eaten -
Love Poem
I want to write a love poem to a volcano,
but that would involve learning to love God
and I’m not quite ready to make peace
with the war yet. I’m still fighting, still kissing, -
Existentialism
cut the string, swallow the sea, burn the boat.
I never wanted to chronicle the apocalypse.
Easter, Christ rose from the dead like a fresh
loaf of bread. the East had it right, communion -
An Unraveling
I recently came across a translation of Euripedes’s Medea by David Kocas. It felt more like an encounter really, like I'd come across Medea herself: an icon in a barren church, a window into God’s abandoned feminine half, a woman burning with grief. -
The Bus
inch worms are portals,
this one is full of golden light,
a sour smell, and a hum,
humming louder than a hive.
I climbed inside, listened
to it creak as it folded forward, -
Prayer Wheel or Capitol Hill Autonomous Zone
At the beginning of December, I found myself on Capitol Hill for a poetry reading. I had some time to spare, so I walked around the neighborhood’s green-space, Cal Anderson Park.
Loves
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Coffee Runs
When I was a kid, I had a near perfect childhood. I had friends on the same street as me, and we rode our bikes around the neighborhood playing cops and robbers.
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Togetherness
He sits 6 feet behind the sideline, wondering how the sport in front of him works. The whistle was blown and he felt a sense of togetherness. Teammates were lined up across the bench sticking out on each end by at least 3 people.
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Glittering
I locked eyes with him, the glowing man on the stage.
He glimmered, his red hair shining under the spotlight.
That was all it took for my heart to be stolen away. -
Great Nullification
Every vow cried to the tip of a saber,
Every soul sold to a higher or lower power,
Every road paved to lead others astray,
Is nullified.
Revoked,
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To Be a Son
Blue and black blur as the football spirals through the air,
My hands outstretched,
The ball tumbling closer and closer.
I drop it.
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The Chaotic Misdemeanors of Bluejay One
A green tea bag is baking cold out on my porch
A piece of gray rock from the quarry wanted to be torched
Whipped cream pecks your cheeks with specks and flecks of blue