8 less 8 was none

the composition shifts a degree

the whole world



the fires far east lick the earth

suffocate the seaweed

paper tongue


2 air-conditioned hearts

tokyo rising sun

4 chamber orchestra reflects

the sea


sails stretch out for perth


eight less eight

makes none

go on with.out

go on without

I’m not certain why it’s so hard for me

to be around people, I guess

I may be sensitive.

There aren’t just unfriendly ones.

There are ignorant ones. Mean ones…

Yet the hardest kind of all

are the ones you fall in

love with

the ones you treasure the ones

you cannot go on


wall flower social

may the social sphere

be elastic and expand

without cracking and breaking


falling like an icicle

killing me where I


in the meanwhile

i got my couple hours

a day good medicine


writing my book

making out with words

the tongue kissing was the best part

the audience swooned

by the character studies i


inhibitions were wall flowers

garden variety virtual

open microphone affairs


life becomes tolerable
moment by moment
it won’t ever be acceptable
in analysis

life won’t ever add up
to any magic number
it won’t hold in retrospect
it won’t measure up
to any ideal

life falls apart
then regroups
life is never the same
always changes and

cannot be predicted
by forecast or made

life is unkempt

life will not love you only
you may love life
for the moment
you are lucky
to exist


one morning you sit down
to your work with your coffee
beside you and

the tides have been broken 
they have turned on the ocean!
this is what you came for
so suddenly

disciple to words
the reading
the writing

the sea and the healing
fresh atmosphere replaces
the ceiling! an absence of the world
you recollect so unfeeling

your voice is upon you
you’ve found yourself! finally
the struggle is gone
you no longer push into page

strangely awakened
enveloped by an undercurrent
you sing the song you were born to sing
you come thrashing to surface!

like faith
you cannot see it
you only feel it
you know

these are the moments a writer lives by!
when time loses interest
appetite gone silent
and the sentences form on their own

full of spirit!
making meaning
full of feeling!
with rhythm and rolling

you collide with the page
like a strike
when you’re bowling

thank the stars
thank the gods
you got lucky