January 12, 2026

writing about things
about losing
and possibly gaining

[about gaming the system
that seems incapable of collapsing
without dire consequences]

about consequential
and inconsequential
choices

for our own choices
will always always always bring
something
to our own lives

but in the grand schemes of planets and universes and stars
what is one
human’s
mistake

[what is one species’
constant
blunder?]

December 29, 2025

how high would you fly
knowing you must, eventually, fall?

could you resist the sirens’ call
convincing your flawed human brain
you might just resist it all?

could you throw yourself, knowingly, into the sky
just to see what the view is like up there
just to prove yourself mighty
for a moment?

or could you stay down on the ground
safe
but knowing you’d never know what the clouds taste like?

December 27, 2025

just past my house
on the dead-end street it lies upon
is a strange sort of
Wishing Well
and, well, it never grants wishes
instead it grants
Fears

but the nice thing is
most of our fears
are far worse in our heads
than they ever are
in real
life

so my fear of spiders
erupted
but didn’t bury me
as i’d assumed it would

and my little brother’s fear of losing his favorite toy
of course happened by him
dropping it in
but it was the late nineties by then
and his tonka truck was available
at any toys r us
and it “magically reappeared”
the next
morning

and my friend’s fear of
losing her grandfather
of course happened the minute she touched
the side of the well
but she also got to say goodbye to his spirit
which stopped by
at that very spot

so

so

well

i guess

what i’m trying to say is…

now that my fear is societal collapse
and ultimate armageddon,
but i also can’t see how we’ll get out of this
very rough point in history
without it
i’ve been thinking about that
Fearing Well
a lot
and wondering
if it’s still just past my parents’ old house
on that dead end street
and if believing in the magic of the object is enough
to cancel out the fact that
this fear is now
a wish
as well

May 15, 2025

perhaps you wake up one day
and the sky is purple instead of blue

still the same brightness — no sunrise or sunset vibes
making the change, though many things may adjust
from your point of view — like are you near a body of water?
look at it, it’ll reflect the sky, and you’ll realize
in that moment, that the ocean is not, in fact, blue,
or even any color on its own,
but a simple showing back of
the sky above it

but

no one else remarks on the suddenness of the purple in the sky
and when you see a game show with simple questions
or shadow your niece’s kindergarten class
the correct answer to “what color is the sky”
is “purple!” every time

so what now?

do you ask someone about it?
do you try to sleep it off?

do you check your own kindergarten worksheets
dug up and pulled down from your parents’ house’s attic?
there, in your own handwriting, is “purple”
and even poems you wrote ages ago
where you rhymed “blue” with “true” at the end of a stanza
put forth the same rhyme scheme, but with purple in the middle
“the sky’s purple hue/makes my heart beat true”
and it works
better than
“blue”

do you take this to your therapist
crossing your fingers behind your body
that it won’t be enough to get you committed
again?

how long has your reality strayed from everyone else’s?

is everyone else under an illusion now?
were you picking up nonreality for twenty-seven years?

why
why
why
is this happening?
to you?

you wait

and perhaps

you never get an answer…

May 6, 2025

spectacular
spectacle
and spectacles help us all
see
wonders
in our own
and each others’
eyes

for once
for twice
for as many times
as we might find a rhyme
and/or reason
to climb
and explore
and discover
and become
one
with some sort of
happiness
[if we can
if we can]

~~~

there’s still a bit of
misalignment
when it comes to
my own self
and my poet self

and i cannot tell if that’s because
i don’t perform my own poetry enough
that it becomes as second nature as
acting
or aerial
or simply listening
but my own poetry
i have to remind myself
‘i made this
and it isn’t
half
bad’

~~~

or perhaps it’s because
i’m all self-taught
and i’m just flying by
the seat of my pants
and i can’t totally tell
what works and what’s a fail
except that
some poems flow like water
and some drip like sludge
and every now and then
i find a rhyme that tastes as good as it sounds
but i don’t know how i found any of that
it just happens
through trial and error
every
single
time

like i’m always starting
from one

January 12, 2022

{unknown}
what i want to write
{unknown}
what i want with my life
{unknown}
what decision to make from
a life
rife
with greatness
and gloom,
elation
and existential dread…

speak what my mind
wanders to wonder
about day to day,
week to week,
(second to second,
why am i always second in my actions
but the only thing on my mind?)

{experiment
unknown
until
something makes sense}