June 25, 2026

i wish i could think of all the words i can’t think of right now

i wish i could recall all the vocabulary that’s in my head
but they’re stuck behind sticky mind-doors
where the mental wood has warped over the years of trauma
and protecting myself against trauma

the maze in my mind
simply to find
a fucking synonym
is atrocious

[i measure out how detrimental it is to the poem
if i should sit and think, and perhaps get lost in my own thoughts
or stop and look it up on the internet, and thereby lose the spell i cast
on my own poetry being sans-internet-influence,
or ask my kip
or set a reminder to go back and check
at a later time…

usually i set a reminder in the way of brackets around one word
and hope i can find the exact alternate
i thought i could think of
at the time of writing]

June 18, 2026

beautiful words
about ugly things
i wish i could write like my thoughts were cursive
calligraphy
a cartography of trauma set in gorgeous handwriting

but i’m a type-writer
printed and sure
un-erasable blank ink holding
my most ephemeral thoughts
not beautifully tragic
but solidly uncertain words
in the most permanent of ways of writings
we use today

[but nothing will survive the heat death of dominicus
right?]

June 17, 2026

it’s always so fascinating to me
watching my poetry
slide from one subject matter
[an introductory topic, if you will]
into the underlying
what-it’s-really-about
as if my conscious brain
*almost* gets it
but *always* needs to let the
subconscious brain take over
to get to the heart of the matter
[and if i try to control too much —
with form or function or rhyme or
look — the underlying message can’t come out;
or still does, but ruins whatever basis i had
laid out] and this pattern, of
almost-but-not-quite-knowing what my poetry will really
be containing, is like watching a movie of your own life
in front of you — you know what it was like behind your eyes
but from this third-person vantage, it’s all a little off
a little wild
a little unsettling in its
potential comfort,
but still entertaining
because of the new
perspective

that’s what my morning poetry is like
for me, most
mornings

June 15, 2026

living in one world
or another

splitting my focus

when one takes over
the other needs to take a backseat

and sometimes
because of how much i love each thing
a backseat feels like
it fell off the vehicle
entirely

but i turn around
and pick it back up
and gently place it
front seat and center again in my focus
until the split needs to happen once more

it’s hard loving so many things
so many activities
so many lives

[but it’s only ever hard on the focus needed
the actual amount of love i have is
absolutely limitless]

March 2, 2026

it’s already
march
but january and february seemed to take
forever

will the rest of this year
fly
by

or will it stretch and strain
as our cheeto in chief
brags about wars
and killing
whomever he pleases

i know i know i know
in just a few years
this will all have seemed
like it happened in the blink of an eye
but living in it
is dunking one’s head in molasses
and expecting
to blink
and breathe
and see
normally

January 25, 2026

if you follow the dancing sheet of snow
as it leaps up from its tree branch
and swirls down below
each individual snowflake
becomes part of something
larger
and more whole

and as it settles on the ground
it joins a community there as well
some staying
some picking up and dancing more
elsewhere
and on and on and on it goes
one flake
one wind
many options
infinite paths
but always
somehow
together
with others
when needed

the metaphor for community is there
it needs some refining
some shaping and sculpting
[like most communities do, i’d wager],
but it’s hard to see any independent entity
once you realize
what community truly means
to the survival
of anyone
or anything.

January 21, 2026

it’s interesting how
comforting
certain music is

like covering myself up
with a blanket of familiar sound

like burying my face into
the soft coat of a song i love

like holding myself
and the sound
all in one
safe
safe
place

January 4, 2026

dusty computer screen

don’t fix it
don’t wipe it away

instead enjoy how each speck
catches the sunlight as it streams through the window
a little earlier
and earlier
each morning

[we’re on the upswing now—
it only gets brighter
from here]