Game Plan.

Hole up in your place. Don\'t leave. Help will come soon. Don\'t run. Take cover. Arm yourself. Have an excellent escape plan.

September 14th, 2008 | All Poems, Home Life Poems | No comments

Coffee.

It\'s the the caffeine addiction. It\'s the morning ritual, the little cafe. The shared metaphor for rising, And joing with the day. Prepare my arm for the injection, Drip the coffee right in there. Slap it til it shows up. Hit is harder. Use a tourniquet! You sissy! I want something warm and soothing. I need a second shot.

August 14th, 2008 | All Poems, Home Life Poems | No comments

Summer.

Aaaaaaaaand we’re back.

SUmer is not a verb. Or a polo shirt. It is a season. FUll of sun and breeze and, Ok, a few sailboats. But get your hands off my summer. A noun!

August 7th, 2008 | All Poems, Home Life Poems | No comments

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