I locked the door

I locked the door against the stupidity of my children

Their needs and grimaces

Their whines

Why can I not lie in peace with a locked door?

Why do they arouse in me anger frustration pity longing to protect

anxious to provide ideas for how to solve for x

But I am supposed to be napping impervious

With the door locked

and they have not yet begun to throw their bodies against it as they sometimes do

More so i prayed for them loved longed yearned them into being and now ha 

ha its not that i don’t want them—never that—

but if they could pause on wanting only me…

and let me rest,

and let me rest 

Learning the truth

You find

it hard

learning the truth 

about me

damn though

you find it hard

learning the truth

Gaza

Don't act surprised

to see violets scream out

from the bombed rubble:

pain is where hope hides.

On Having Too Many Books, Trinkets, Etc.

Please excuse my wordiness – 

                     circular reasoning, 

proclivity to repeat myself: 

                    Because

it does feel like a kind of fate, 

                    stumbling across words that break

through what you thought was the final 

                    definition of your experience. 

And if you are tired of my words,

                    imagine the strain of my fingers

holding on to my precious thoughts. 

                   What is weighing you down? 

You never say and I cannot tell 

                   from your economy assertions – 

                    

                     

                       

Sewage dreams

 

I'm​ wide-awake ​wild and weary of 

​Well-written statements that never get posted

Pressed to death under the weight

Of the next thing we couldn't imagine.

I welcome these dreams of plumbing -

The pipes, the sewage and all.

Show me the frictionless movement

​Of all that shit we created 

Rushing away unstoppably,

Treated and sent back up.

Start to finish

Round the bend and round

my cycle's much shorter,

rinse and repeat once allowed

for the drips to drop,

no time for that now

wringing the week out, 

hoping to duck the mildew hum

before it starts up again.

practice reality

 a line in the sand
washed away again
what's the sensation
of it not bothering you yet
but soon?
at what minute in the morning
are you capable of using 
a neutral or loving or gentle tone
to make a request 
and be good natured 
about the plain inequity
of this phase of life
which seems will last forever
ok i know it's tense
when I'm forever saying yes
inevitably sometimes against my will
then irate at one more random question
my brain cracked
my wires frazzled 
the gap between what I wanted to be
and the reality
a gondola ride apart

Bella and Jonathan

hooooooooooot

flutter, snap —

whoosh, flap

then a rustle, we whisper

nothing, nothing

nothing for longer

than there ever was anything

On the Fallacy of Divine Inspiration

We all need peace and quiet,

But it can be a little numbing

To learn the silence is directed at

You and your shortcomings

Your artless repetitions

Don’t hold up on the rewatch

And God looked away

To turn on Charles in Charge… 

His beard reeks of Backwoods 

Known to rock a heavy fog

In his blood stained Christmas sweater

Demons swarm the itchy arms

Ignoring your existence 

Until the evening’s gloam

Then charge your crystals, load your gun

Daddy’s coming home