This road divides us, you and I

The lights that flicker green to red

A signal, like a lighthouse rock

Upon the distant shore. I swore

I saw you calling, drawing light

Into my eyes, so tired of the bright

And glaring sight. Ignoring you,

I wanted only rest and sleep.

Your thankless duty did you keep

Until the signal dimmed at last

And tiny stars did cross my sight

Along with night. And I embrace

My cold and bitter cross. My loss,

Because I did not cross.



And every day I’m called to choose

The paper or the plastic bag

To carry with me all my blues

Beliefs, convictions, waving flags

Of plastic. Sturdy, simple, strong

Yet thrown, discarded, left to die

Like plastic party masks, a face

Now frozen, gapes with hollow eyes

A never-rotting peace in space

Eternal laughter etched in place

I choose the paper trail. Again

And always. Soft and crumpled down

With gentle touch from mice and men

Yet gentle in embrace, its frown

Gives way to smiles and hearty mirth

So fragile, tears apart with tears

I fear it cannot last. Away

It folds and burns, and yet it feels

As I do, crumpled as I am

By other hands. Yet carry on

The carrying and caring


In the distance of an earphone

Bud, gives birth to wired vines. Stone-

Deaf, too tired for a word, but silent

Hums are easy, nodding “yes”. Not

Hearing any word she said, and

Yet it’s clear: This conversation’s end

Drifts ever near like snaking wires

In my ears. This fruit it offers

Tastes so sweet: A playlist, playing

Ever after, on repeat. Music’s praying

Twice, I’m told. Leave me to my verse

My scripture. Rewind tape and play.

Your words are honey now, my dear

But music got its venom in me first.