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I loved trains before I knew you and I’ll love them long after you’re gone

I loved trains before I knew you and I’ll love them long after you’re gone

There is another train coming
and this one’s heading west
any train that goes far away
is the train that I love the best

I love the rolling of the wheels
the open scenes passing by
there are pictures there in the window
of towns and hill and sky

I loved them long before I knew you
and now that you’re a ghost
the train that takes me far away
is the train that I want the most

February 10 2016


there are many roads to hell

There are many roads to hell

But none as sweet as that taken by Persephone


When we are little and small

And our parents tell us what gods to believe in


The world is very small indeed

When we grow up we choose our

Own gods

And goddesses


Building our own shrines

Choosing our own roads


There are many roads to hell

But none as sweet as that taken by Persephone



there are many roads to hell  – December 10 2014

we never

We Never

We never just went for a walk
in the rain
through we did walk in the rain
to go eat, that one day,
it wasn’t raining hard,
but you insisted on bringing an umbrella
I didn’t care
it wasn’t to share

we never just fell asleep in
each other’s arms, it was
always, you murmuring when I
rolled over so we had to
rearrange our bodies,
I never really slept,
too aware of another body being
so close

we never wrote a long letter
how we feel – except I did
because words “were my thing”
as you are fond of saying
as thought that excluded you from
ever having to use them, or

we never had a picnic in a park
that one we never did,
though we did eat dumplings
down by the lakefront,
and the sun was so bright
it hurt, and you were smiling

we never slipped into an easy
seamless meeting
and that you never understood
and never could
or never would

we never, so many things

February  2016

Abominations on a Sunday morning in January

I am not fond of churches
but I like this this corner that we pass
where sky and spire meet

on ‘this weird January morn’
we walk through the park on our way home

it’s Sunday
we left our beds to meet with a friend
instead of sitting in a pew
and listening to how these days we are

yes, we are

we are abominations of our own
making –
monsters born
out of sitting still and keeping quiet and staying calm,
we roar, we rise, we are
monstrous and strong
and we will make this world better than the one
you try to force upon us

Lantern light in winter’s night



The snow lies thick and heavy

Upon the night ground –

The lantern light casts little glow

To see as we wander

Through the dark.


I cannot see the path just now,

So hold my hand,

Just now.


And when we pass through the forest,

Lift the lantern higher,

So that we may see the way.



Lantern light in winter’s night – January 2011

September sweeps in
claiming the days for autumn
as the haze of summer dissipates
as sweaty hours and muggy evenings fade
into the memory of
listless lingering moments,
where it took so much effort
just to get dressed in clothes
that stayed fresh for a movement or two

September – you breathe it in
luring you with the air
so clear you could drink it –

September is what you’ve been waiting for

These are the days you want to last
the nights you wants to hold on to,

drawing them out one by one
like footsteps in the dark

midnight coffee grounds

Midnight coffee grounds
The start of a brand new day
Laid out
Not yet, not yet

There is a voice in my head keeps
drumming, telling me to keep
going on
Keep trying
Keep writing
Just let me sleep for a little while
Just let me be for a little while

My teeth stained in wine and poetry
Not ready to say goodnight
Not yet not yet

This is not yet tomorrow
Not yet the end of spring
Not yet the call of summer
Somewhere lingering in between

I keep hearing the birds of the morning telling me
I should be asleep
Just let me keep for a little longer
Just let me breathe for a little while
Not yet not yet

-April –