Our 16-year-old
cat is on the
licking his
nonexistent balls
he rolls around in
playful glee
as if
he is
still a kitten

I sit here
on my couch
& groan


Note to Self

Spill forth
never mind the carpet
never mind your clothes
spill forth

let it out
never mind pretense
never mind offenses
let it all come out

you’re doing damage
to your brain
your head
is getting soft

you’re doing damage
to your heart
it all inside

you are a stifled geyser
ready to blow
you could be a beautiful star
instead you implode

you feel the pain
deep in your gut
you never trust it

you feel the knife
rusting in between
your ribs
and you focus on it

you forget that
you are a mountain
that you can move
things with your mind

you ignore that
you are important
from matter you came
and you will return

yet you matter
in multiverses
you are a stone
that cannot be displaced

you could be a beautiful star
yet you choose to implode

The Gift

before Christ
what is it I’ve been
doing with my time

speed ahead
why is it I’ve been
losing all my mind

never at rest, a hole
always left in pieces

no reset
wondering what could be
what hasn’t happened yet

when end is near
allotment of time
is not equally distributed

wondering the weight
of worry
how to measure
the stone on chest

how to receive
the wish
the breath

how to alleviate
the pain
wrapped around
the gift

The Drop

Rooftop meditations
sunshine medication
climbing so high yet
confined to a cage
what are these fears
these limitations
that make my chest ache
make me gasp for breath

pink blossoms choked out
by an early spring freeze
so much potential
growth and then loss; growth, loss
learning to let go
while digging in claws
wronging past-life rights
repeating stale patterns

I could stay up here forever
but I’d fall of in my sleep
the climb alone could kill me
but the drop, the drop could rebuild me
a system reboot to
shake off years of rust
an overhaul at the basest level
once full of breath, returned to dust