up late haiku

staying up this late

like Viagra for my brain

it just won’t go down



Nights in the Dawn of Summer

nights in the dawn of summer

when it’s still light past nine

there is no temperature

and everything is beautiful

driving past neighborhoods

catching the scent of grilling still

hanging in the windless air

transitioning seamlessly into

honeysuckle, then nothing

nothing but clean purity

with a hint of freshly awakening vegetation

all under a completely clear sky

dotted with the occasional twinkle

an ombre of rich orange outlining 

the black distant clusters of woods

becomes deepening shades of blue and indigo

as your eyes follow it up into


classic rock theme music escorts you

as you glide and seem to make no noise

seem to have no car

no body


just existence and observation

and nothing can touch you as you melt into the night


Reading with Ian

at the start of this page

his head lolls farther

down my chest

and the faint grip on his tablet

finally disappears

by the next page,

his hand twitches, a faint snore begins

i kiss the top of his head

and he stops

i tighten the hold i have

on his shoulder

and develop diabetes 



bare branches, limbs, underbrush

now sheathed in delicate ice that

bends saplings and tall grass to the ground

ethereal but dull under the

uniformly gray rain spitting sky

remains of a previous snowstorm

unevenly patch this oppressive landscape

cold seeps from these visual cues

to an actual sensation in the extremities

working from fingertips and toes into

arms, legs, bones, soul

god i hate this time of year.


Heat Delirium

Hail! Hail! Hail!

Hail to the gods of ice

and wind

and relief from this

sun-furnace heated air

Repent! Repent! Repent!

Throw yourself on their

air conditioned mercy

and pray at their cool water altar!

Beg for your salvation from

eternal body dripping heat;

surrender your soul to

the gods of cool!

Praise! Praise! Praise!

Praise that fresh wind they send

across your sweat-dampened face-

Oh glory to those merciful

gods of cool who

stir that sweltering



summer air so that you may breathe!

Hail those merciful gods of cool

who have decided to let you survive this

abysmally hot season!



what am i doing?

     (starts packing a suitcase)

where is my life even going?

     (gets into a taxi)

maybe things will change now

     (hands the ticket to the woman at the counter)

i can already sense it

     (boards the train)

like the atmosphere being blown off a planet

     (watches the scenery start to blur)



cold and mist and

bailey and the volvo

the warmth of the cab and

the smell of the fuel leak,

the taste of double stacks

still fresh on our lips and

the beat of daft punk

filling our ears as we

glide down the highway

into oblivion.



from this angle on the hill,

the westbound traffic looks like

an illuminated rhinestone bracelet

draped across the black

velvet evening landscape.

giant powderpuff cloud sits

in the sky ahead,

the focal point of the

one-point perspective treeline-

it seems to be lit

from within.

a single star or planet

sits just next to it like a

shining beauty mark

on an old hollywood starlet’s cheek.

could any other time of day

possibly be considered glamorous?