That damn sixth month
Harbinger of change
And for once, I don’t want it
Truth be told I should
We split like arrows
On a rusty compass
Why do I have be the
One pointing north?
I guess it makes sense
One heads west
Another back south
The third went east
Before any of us saw
The looming shadow of June
Black out the sun on
Where we used to be
Am I the one we all use
As a point of reference?
Refresh my memory
Maybe I’m supposed to
Be the stable one here
We both know I can’t stand
Acting responsibly
I can see that weekend
In my head now
We all come together
Like an explosion in reverse
A graceful implosion
And just like that
We move apart with
Equal force
A collective bound
By the gravity of



Weekend Warriors

February 7, 2009

Saturday journeys
A silvery bug
Skittering across the map
Three to one
Cold waves brush my ankles
Ribbons and sugar
A red wandering, we
Refused to stop
The kind of memory
That tastes sweet
Upon your tongue, lungs
Filled with salt
Yellow lines and forest
On either side
Sunlight leaks through the
Sylvan green shadows
Illuminating the reality of it all
We are free