coffee
and cold brew
are like old friends i come back to
every single morning
and though ‘old companions’ are more likely to be ones
whom you don’t see for months or years at a time
it really does feel like a hug that has been waiting
for at least 365 days
when i take that first sip in the morning
walking the puppy
up and down the sidewalk
that same sidewalk we do every morning
and she always smells different things
keeps up with different dogs in the neighborhood
[“reads the newspaper” if you will]
and i stand by, astounded
that something as beautiful smelling as honeysuckle
can be growing
and scenting
this new york city
neighborhood
[even if they are invasive…]
observing humanity
in an emergency
department
[but i should probably be
eating some sort of snack
to make my own humanity
a little bit
even-er]
it’s always so strange
writing in the nighttime
everyone around me already asleep
it feels like a secret
i may get to keep
unlike the morning writing times
where it flows from me
and into the ether/the void/the endless space that is the internet
those secrets i always
let
go
[and i think they may still be going]
i have so many ideas
and concepts
and words
and stanzas
running through my head at all times
i am damn near constantly in a state
of needing to get something
out
of my system
but i don’t write when i need to
i save it all up for the morningtimes
and in the morningtimes
when i’m ready to write
i come up with almost
nothing
i’m writing
poetry
as warm-up
for maybe something new
something old
something played
something playing
something tragic
something nostalgic
something
i’m going towards
now
here we are
working[auditioning]actor
less time for
writing
more time for
figuring out
[im]perfectionism
first day in june
and i wake up
so cold
make some hot coffee
turn up that heat
things pride month
is usually
without
what kind of vibe does this bode
for the rest of the
season?
[or is this getting the
awkward/bad/less gay stuff
out of the way
so the rest of june will be
great…?!]
but what to write about
when my brain feels so tired
and exhausted from trying to
be creative all week
and knowing that there’s still a couple of things
left to adjust
and fix and mix in
but it’s ok
for a first
draft
it’s ok
for my first
try
it’s ok
for a first
and maybe even a second
or maybe
maybe
maybe
it’s better than ok
for all of those things
[i need to believe
in my creativity
more]
the end
of an era
Joann’s was synonymous with
creativity
and even in these last few weeks and months
of craziness and chaos,
bankruptcy and shut-down,
final sales and equipment liquidation,
the workers still find ways to connect
and laugh
and breathe
kipventures 