writings
Nighttime Monkey
I can’t catch my monkey when it wakes me at baker’s hours.
Running around my bed and screeching about lack and regret.
Or regret of lack or lack of regretting. I don’t really know. It gets so chaotic.
The bedsheets twisted and the night air tinged with the scent of anxiety.
I lay quietly and feign sleep then death. Tricking it into settling beside me
To spend the remainder of the night eyeing each other warily.
Wouldn’t You
So selfish. So self absorbed.
So much about me me me.
Wouldn’t you?
Wouldn’t you like to know
How it is to sit in the cold shadows
And wait, witnessing time impatiently,
Until the sun hits your face and you are blinded
And bigger than you thought you would be?
When I Die
When I die, you will have to pry
Joy out of my clenched fist
And bury me deepest of any grave.
Because I will rise up from the dirt
Determined in my delight.
Negotiating with the gods for
More more more.
So maybe it is best,
To toss me to the ravens
That circle the distant hill.
The one with no path to the top.
Yes, do that.
Toss me to the ravens,
They look hungry for me.
I want you to come into my life
Like a car crash, a stranger I run into
When I round the corner too fast,
A lightening strike. A sudden hard fall
Off a bike I never should have been riding.
Otherwise, I won’t turn my head.
Otherwise, I won’t be interested.
Otherwise, I won’t still my wandering feet.
Otherwise, I won’t know it is you.
When You Are A Super Hero
Don’t throw yourself under the bus
To see if anyone will save you.
Keep your cape clean and ready
To fly into the wind prettily
When the gritty, torn, and mean
Just aren’t worth your time.
