Let this be highlighted in my will
Underlined three times
Copied, faxed, emailed,
Downloaded into the brain robots:
BURN THAT SHIT.
You will find boxes with notes, torn out pages from journals,
Because writers do that: they put down unkind words–
It’s better than putting down the people they love
And you will find print-outs of conversations
Snippets that won’t make sense
And you’ll assume the worst because see above
And there may be some porn
And ramblings, confessions, heart monitor readings,
Phone numbers of people you don’t know
Secrets of those you do
BURN THAT SHIT.
You will in the recesses of drawers find manuscripts,
Drawings, illustrations, bubble beings,
And you will think that surely, surely this was meant for the world
And when they do your make-up as you get ready for the talk-show
You will believe I said this in a moment of weakness,
Of personal crisis, of doubt and dismay and that if I were there
One foot in the Pet Semetary and the other at your door I’d say,
Thank God for you, you knew me so much better
Than I ever knew myself, bless you, you saint,
You made every wretched word worth writing!
BURN THAT SHIT.
I won’t say it again.
Hear me now from a place of full heart and health and joy
And from behind a smile that is more honest than childhood
And as sane as sunshine
I’m begging you.
BURN THAT SHIT.
The thing about being an adult
Is when it’s time to change,
You are equal parts the tornado and the farm
You are Aunt Em and Uncle Henry
You’ll be Dorothy when she wakes up amongst
Tiny men, bubbles, striped socks
But for now
You are in the storm cellar
Black and white and panic all over
You are a force of destruction
You won’t realize what has been taken
And what you have torn apart
Until the end of it all
When the witches and wizards
Are a dream
And you are both clicking your heels
And waiting for your dear ones to wake up.
There is no home like now.
“I will do it after I…”
“I’ll be doing that. But it’s going to have to wait until after…”
“When I’m older, after they…”
Light this word on fire.
Douse it in gasoline and paint thinner.
Bury it deep underneath tinder and newspaper and bundle it with all the others,
The late notes,
Your homegrown tardy slips,
Your date book,
The twine you wrap around your fingers,
And take a long drag from your cigarette before you toss it in,
Set the whole pile of it into a wildfire.
Take off your clothes and in the pale of gray midnight,
Offer the lamb of your soul to the gods of
They won’t wait for you anymore.
When your time comes, they will not say,
“We will come back after”
They will break your bones
They will tie your hair
They will drag you behind them
Time isn’t a human construct;
And every other moment that is not
Means accepting mastery
While expecting flaws.
A big city life
Means compromising your space
For promised culture.
Through the dappled wood:
Our footsteps a steady beat
Accented with breath.
Sundays are the best
When Monday is not in sight.
Save work for Tuesday.
Celebrations in order
To recall great lives.
The shoes of adults
Are not meant for the barefoot;
Laces too binding.
Darkest before dawn,
The deep breath after the sobs.
Come on. Time to work.
Lots and lots of wings:
A Pittsburgh delicacy
Best served in small hills.
Sushi for dinner
And a Target run for fun?
May springs into grass,
Forget looking for it now.
June? Rabbit rabbit.
Only Pittsburgh can
Make a walk in the rain seem
So damn idyllic.
Old friends and bookends.
Then, some ultraviolence,
A side of strong girls.
More sweet than the to do list
Growing longer still.
My body is this:
Spurned girlfriend at the window,
Hurling items down.
The changes sneak up,
Suddenly making you think
Time is a mirage.
Here come the dark clouds —
They best not be writing checks
Their asses can’t cash.
Trying for new starts
On days when the wind blows hard
How long could it take
For the relief of a chill
To become a curse?
When is hard too hard?
When you sink to the bottom?
Or the dead man’s float?
I am the glow cloud.
Watching, waiting, vigilant.
Welcome to Night Vale.
So I don’t do these very often, but there are a few things that have been going on that I want to tell all my lovely new followers, readers, and fans about!
1. 2nd edition of Cape and Dagger is available on Amazon AND at Rickert & Beagle Books. You can also get it on Kindle if that’s your jam.
2. My poetry collection Pickled Miracles is also available in paperback and Kindle from Amazon.
3. Did you know you can follow me on Twitter, Facebook and Instagram under bohemianonrye? It’s true. Ask all the cool kids who are doing it.
4. I’m shooting for 100 follows on Facebook. So tell your friends. Tell your enemies too. I’m not picky.
5. You all are super awesome and I love you.
Happy Mothers Day! #10 is for moms, but especially mine.
After my hair grays,
And autonomy goes dark,
Send a robot bod.
Big light, groggy start.
A touch of panic sets in.
Dude, don’t stress me out.
Sweet relief, pay day,
Though reckoning is at hand:
Bills, a grown-up waste.
The sun glowers down.
Hateful thing because it knows
My words make us cool.
I thank Mom for this,
A life that knows no limit,
Full of adventure.
Over the past few months, I’ve been doing challenges. In March, it was 30 Lists. In April, 30 Doodles (you can view those on my Instagram). In May, I’m doing 30 Photos and 30 Haikus. I’ll be sharing my haikus here in groups of 5 each weekish, and you can view the photos on my Instagram account. Let’s get started.
The emerald leaves
Blaze against May’s promised storm,
Sun still feels a-chill.
Bright paper pages,
Ramen in the afternoon —
A weekend’s delight.
Groceries at dawn,
Thousands of feet pounding down.
Still life, meet motion.
The Light Side and Dark
Two sides of a galaxy:
Knights and nights go on.
Steaming rain in hair
And silent tears when no air
Can survive the heat.
It’s okay to feel overwhelmed.
It’s okay to have a lot going on and not have the best handle on it.
It’s okay to misplace the feeling of drowning when you’re not underwater.
It’s okay to forget to cross off things because they fell out of the routine and down the stairs.
It’s okay to crack a little.
It’s okay to sweat a lot.
Just don’t sit down for too long
Or try to think about it all at once
When it’s very possible that there is an inferno
Waiting on the other side of the warm door knob.
You’ll have time to be fine
Once you stop running.