January 28, 2026

give me
a day
a semester
a scuba suit
a deep dive
an encounter with those aliens we call
octopus
[octopuses/octopi/octopodes
all are correct pluralisations
of this creature i’m mildly
absolutely
obsessed with]

i just want to see them
meet them
study them
understand them
observe them
have them
know
me

it’s a draw far stronger than anything in my life
has ever been
outside of an artistic endeavor

[but, hey, take a look at these magnificent beings
and tell me they aren’t, themselves,
art]

January 27, 2026

when lying on your deathbed
with your last breath
you can’t take it with you —
power accrued
wealth amassed
bodies stylized
any of that

what stays with you is
love
and
your acceptance of self

i’ve seen the love in a room
carry a soul
to whatever comes next

and i know when i die
i may have some small regrets
but you’ll never find me regretting
the person i’ve become

so what
is the point
of what so much of humanity
has

done?

January 26, 2026

trying to write poetry
as our guest cat rubs his face
all over my hands
and arms
and laptop
and screams for attention
and pines for the outside
i know he does not miss

he is clearly far more at home
in a lap
than in the snow

we named him Tab
because he seems intrigued by Computer
and we can always pretend
it’s because he’s a tabby cat

and i love him so much
but i’ll be happy
to have my own cat love me again
when we no longer have a guest feline
interrupting our day to day

but i could not could not could not leave him
outside in the negative lows
and two feet of forecasted snow
so
i let him walk into our house
and our lives
and he is so sweet
and so loving
and so nice

[and even kip is smitten]

but, like any good cat, he also hassles a fair bit,
and though i’ll miss his antics
and jumps
and hundred different meows
all made using his
whole entire face,
he’s gotta get fixed
and maybe find a home
somewhere far away from
the outside that he knows —
thank goodness for friends
with shelters
they help run

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 24, 2026

the swell of the smell of
baking bread
with the spices still entwined
in the ridges and lines
of my hands

[the morning between
an economic blackout day
and a snow day]
[we can be a cozy, homey couple
when we want to be]

January 23, 2026

total economic blackout
[though i forgot about ads
on language learning apps]
[hopefully that barely counts
in the grand scheme of
telling the leadership
the country
the world
that we disagree
wholeheartedly
with what is happening
to our democracy
specifically
in minneapolis, minnesota]

we support you from afar,
midwest warriors —

keep pouring that water
around the tires;
freeze them out
in order to make
ice
melt

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 20, 2026

yesterday it was so easy to write
and write and write a whole ass poem
in one sitting
i just sat down
and did it
and this morning, the struggle is the
realest of real
and i can’t seem to even think of a subject matter
to write about, much less actually
write
it
and i
am simply adding word by word
by
word
instead of going with the flow of the poem
thinking line
and stanza at a time
and i’m
simply
frustrated
at myself

January 19, 2026

is there going to be a time
sometime
soon
where we look at all this newfangled technology
as so tragically
backwoods
backwards
and slow

it’s gotta be
it’s gonna happen
that’s just the way of the world

but i want to know if there was ever a time
where we looked upon the new thing
sometime
later
and felt it wasn’t as great a thing
as it was originally made out to be

there have always been
moral panics about
well, anything and everything really

when people read books too much
they weren’t paying attention
to life
and living

when people spent too much time on the phone
the connection was cheapened

music
is against
godliness

etc

etc

etc

but i feel so many people my age
are looking at the internet
not as bringing something that haunts us as a hysteria
but bringing with it actual
worse
life
living

[and it is those of us who were there in the digital trenches,
who thought the internet was the dawn of a
great new age,
who extolled the powers of social media
for keeping us in contact with people
we very likely would have lost touch with,

we are the ones having doubts
second guessing our own excitement.]

[i feel like the only comparable moment would be
a failed city/state
with a governmental system
that didn’t do
what it said it would]

[but then, wouldn’t those who wanted it
dig their heels in
harder
as the numbers and examples and proof
overwhelmed the senses;
haven’t people always clung harder to the “facts”
that are provably
wrong
with
every
moment
of
proof?]

so what age are we in?

or am i in the minority
as i sit here, annoyed with and worried about
ai
and the state of the internet in general?

but believe me when i say
i do not
want to go back to a “simpler time”

moving forward is good

often technology is great

it is the shareholders and capitalism and consumerism that’s making these things
so terrible
upon release
and as they
continue to
exist

[the vulture class just gives a bad name
to vultures]