Respite, some respite
When’s it going to come
Just a little awning
to duck beneath the sun
When it rains it pours,
my Mother used to say
Grew up too fast,
we grew up too fast
We forgot all of the fun
We learned to overthink
Remember, remember
Nothing lasts forever
Over and over
and what is the point?
I lie down and practice
breathing
as if I forget how it’s done
Praying to nameless
that these chest pains
are only anxiety
I keep on doing it,
this living thing
Keep on continuing
because I do not
know anything else
And over and over
So what is the point?
Struggling to find the strength
to remove this mental blade
from my ribs
*** ***
Today is day 67 since my last drink.
It’s been 80 days since my last confession.
Coming soon … Sept. 18 from West Vine Press
Cover image courtesy of Andrew H. Kuharevicz
It’s been quiet around here lately, but I am excited to announce some news: On Sept. 11, West Vine Press will publish my latest poetry book, titled Pancreatic Care Package. In the meantime, folks can get a preview of my book right now by purchasing WVP’s sampler. The paperback features poetry and prose from a variety of West Vine Press writers. Purchase here.
Warmth
blanket me
in
water
something
other than
routine
at least until
things get extreme
ignited
I want to be
set on fire
from the outside
in
I want to feel flame
I never want
to escape dreams
in which I’m flying
why then do I wake
before I crash
I never want
to wake from dreams
in which I’m dying
why then that I live
to repeat sleep
it’s daytime
sun is shining
the moon is out
a half thumbnail
in the cloudless
blue sky
crow is cawing
skin is burning
skin is crawling
half moon is
a broken thumbnail
chipped from hard day’s wake
I don’t know who I am
I am not that boy
throwing rocks
breaking eggs
casting stones
breaking glass
I am not that boy
with four eyes
fifth-grade disease
missing class
pissing pants
I don’t know who I am
or I simply forgot
or I never even knew
to begin with
what do I know
I don’t know shit
I forgot the face which
I mirror
I broke it
the mirror
just to see how far
the shards would go
I broke it
the mirror
complicated I am
I cracked it
the mirror
how flawed I am
I am not that boy
I am not that man
Maneuvering through life
like an iceberg
sinking everything
in my course
Off-kilter
unbalanced
I feel off-center
maladroit
malcontent
I feel maligned
sleep would be
the only way
to reset my mood
I can’t lie still
my world is spinning
away, out of control
out of sequence
unleashed
I feel out of sync
sardonic
insatiable
unable to say no
a slap in the face
would be a great way
to end this day
I can’t sit still
my head is spinning
away, I can’t hold on
My new book Pancreatic Care Package is now available to purchase from West Vine Press. 
FM Ghost 