Cold sores, cold wars So old it is being told “You’re not the one” But I keep it to myself The doubts I hide like a pimple Red and irritated, ready to pop Now wipe away the pus Let the blood coagulate  Let it stain like spaghetti sauce on a stovetop  I’m covered in cat hair I’m soaked in lite beer and spit I’m in an argument with the television  And she’s not listening to a word I say The virtual lover, the guilt-free neglect The shades are drawn, my pen is broken  ..read more

Oh, let me brace myself for the cold kiss of winter.   A heart like a hearth, the crackling of wood fire conjures memories of a home since caved in from a heavy snow.   A still portrait of a family, bodies blanketed by snowfall exchange chilly glances intercepted by the gusts of the harsh wintry air.   A snowy owl perches on the debris For a moment I ponder what it means, before wringing the moisture from my tongue to save my truths for a warmer day.   ..read more

Great flood, mudslide Love like a natural disaster   Great trees uprooted, the violence of separation I was found upstream, tongue severed bitter food for the fishes  I feel a nibbling at my fingertips as I sink with my thoughts of you  Your face like sunshine cutting through storm clouds I miss the warmth that it brings   So, if you find yourself taking on water If the lightning cracks thrice Send our mementos up the river and I'll be at the bend to collect ..read more

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 Hello everyone. This is your poet speaking. You may have noticed I haven't uploaded in awhile and frankly that's because I haven't been writing regularly. You see, COVID and the ensuing lockdowns have completely disrupted my routines and rhythm. As many of my fellow poets know this can be debilitating to the writing process. I'm also currently enrolled in school and working full-time. Turns out that eats up a lot of my time. To my readers, thank you. I don't know who's still reading but thank you. To everyone that's seen me perform this drivel at Poetry Room, Artist's Umbrella, and vario ..read more

Hyperbole: I'm dying. Untouched, stubborn to the dullness that is waking up to only regrets at my side, now familiar bedfellows Masturbation without imagination A meta-like quality: The star of a NatGeo special A wild beast pleasures itself for want of feeling and I'm unconscious my brain swelling with nameless want Bloody Suburbia A stalker's corpse in the bushes bored to death But we are not entertained Assuming the missionary position (is the poet not crass by nature?) for much of our lives on our backs waiting for life to take us there ..read more

The bereaved Gardener Etching names into stone Your face like clay, brown and firm Two 0 One 9 It's so hard to fall upward Failing to find myself in the storm and I think it so cruel dipping the doll's head in wax a chipped tooth, a weepy eye A boring into the earth the carcass of an oak limbs strewn about a sea of grass I've been silent about my intentions Seeding the soil with lies, lies, lies, lies, lies, lies... But worry not- The sunflowers sprouting from my chest will still turn in open conversation The headstone dressed in moss will speak my name in silent tongues and I'll watch o ..read more

Don’t. Embrace the space between us Familiarize yourself with vacancy because I’ve checked out. It wasn’t the bed bugs moth chewed cream curtains semen stains on a carpet the same shade as oatmeal- It was you. So, Just. Don’t ..read more

Baby brother with hair like wildfire eyes of deepest blue glistening like the surface of Lake Michigan in Indian summer- A smile of hidden treasures buried deep like our mother before us You learned this early on- not all that is found yields reward But count those calluses the sting of sweat watch the blood trickle into the wound slashed into the earth Baby brother you remember it well- a broken chair the kindling to an arson whose hearth still glows beneath the charred remains of a broken home Baby brother show me the blisters- Continue to stand too close to the fire and you will get burn ..read more

Listen close, loose change Hear its tune in your faded denim pocket Sag, a smiling waistband hugs your hips The tone of your skin cream of mushroom Your ugly, all to my appetite ..read more