--BROOKLYN IS COVERED IN LITTLE PIECES OF PAPER

…Hello, winter.  You might as well come in.  You’ve been hanging around for a while now.  Sit.  Here’s a towel to dry yourself.  Here’s a bowl of porridge.

…Making the team is always cause for celebration.  Time to have a party.

…All I know is, that to me, you look like you’re lots of fun.  Watch out here I come.

…Photographs of young people growing old are like lights on in a tall building and the sun still in the sky.

…The thing about the sky is, it has two faces and you get to decide which one you see.  Sort of like life.

…Meteors are always whizzing around.  We just never notice them.  But once in a while we actually see how spectacular they are.  That’s when our breath catches and let out that little hiccup of wonder.

…In this same town lived a boy and a girl who could be in different rooms but know what the other was drawing.

…I haven’t seen a swallow in a long time.  Next time I do, I vow to pay more attention, to observe.

…There’s not much worse than having something you value disappear.  It can be words or it can be love or it can be anything.  When it’s gone for good and you can’t get it back, man, that really sucks ass.

…Something incredibly complicated was going on yesterday.  I had to slow down, stop the spell from happening by sheer will power.  I guess that’s the way life is most times.

…Perhaps they were a tiny bit cruel to children now and then because others were cruel to them as children.  I don’t really know for sure.  Just guessing.  Always guessing.

…I had a complicated dream again last night.  It was Friday just like that, then there were straps laid out on every surface.  I could pick whichever one I wanted, but not who would use it on me.

…Every once in a while, it’s good to take a moment to ask yourself—how much are you enjoying yourself. 

…I’m not a fan of pancakes.  But chocolate chip pancakes?  They’re another story.

…Hey, sparrow, can you give me another hour under these flowers?  I’m just getting started, and you know I have stamina.

…It cannot touch you if you don’t let it.  That’s not always true, of course, but it’s a good thing to think, to believe.  It cannot touch you—the sound of the rapids—leave it and just walk away instead.

…A big grand gesture is not actually about what you do.  It’s about intent.  It’s about saying I see you, I hear you, and I’m showing you how important that is to me right now.

…I’d forgotten how wonderful babies are.  Well, not forgotten, of course.  I love babies.  But holding one, smelling that warm bread scent, touching those doughy cheeks, it makes you comprehend how precious life is and how vulnerable we are when we’re young.

Dear God,

I know you’re a big fan of children, but there are a lot of them that could use your help right now.

--I DON’T KNOW IF YOU WANT ME, BUT YOU GOT ME

…People smile and tell me I’m the lucky one.

…Sometimes it’s important to realize, that, most, times, failure is the very thing that makes us succeed.

…Although I always tried to reach that far, it always seemed like a million miles away, because it is.

…You don’t choose the blues, the blues choose you.

…If you think about it, tipping is a weird concept—who to tip when, for what, etc.  But I think it’s always best to tip big, if you are able.  I mean, what’s a couple of extra bucks?

…If you’re lucky enough to have all the pieces come together, you should take it.

…People come into our lives for all different kinds of reasons.  You can try to figure out why that is, but what difference does it make?  Just enjoy them being there.

…That nine year old boy?  I put him away for now.

…A shake of the head is all you need to know what someone thinks about you.

….Happy Birthday, Dad.  No gift cards this year, but still love in the mail.

…Everyone wanted Carver to write a novel, everyone, except Carver.  At one point, a big publishing company gave him a large advance for a novel   Carver drank the advance away and sent them fifteen pages, then went back to writing stories and poems (which no one wanted from him, except maybe me).  I admire that—not him blowing the money, but him doing what he loved most.

…From where I’m sitting, things are a little blurry and the sun won’t leave me alone.  How is that?

…Yesterday was a white space day.  Those are not my favorite kinds of days.

…I ain’t nobody’s problem but my own.

…Sometimes the obvious needs pointing out.

…Sometimes you can get scolded for not doing something a person didn’t even know you were thinking about doing in the first place.

…The beaver (“Bud”) swam by yesterday in a different way than he normally does.  Normal is him sort of floating or dog-paddling with his head barely lifted out of the water.  Yesterday he dove under, came up and was doing something resembling the butterfly stroke.  It might just be the frigid lake.  Hope the little guy is okay.  He’s one of my favorite things to watch.

…Sometimes we don’t really listen until we’re desperate.  I know, because I’ve been there.

…Pain insists upon being attended to.  C.S. Lewis said that, and yep, he was right.

…I could use a lifeguard right about now.

…I’ve been told, even recently, that it’s important to mix in some levity with all the misery.  That’s harder than it seems, but I’ll give a shot.

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--YOU ARE MY MOST RECENT MEMORY

The Weight of Ruin

She didn’t like it

When he kissed her

Kept her mouth gated

Hiding teeth and tongue

In the reflection her eyes wide

But bored like a stuffed owl

Collecting dust in a stale barroom

The old grandfather clock coughed

And stared at them with great

Disappointment and distaste

Another couple kicked to the curb

When the kids returned from the game

All four sat in the living room

Munching buttered popcorn

Some fixated on their phones

Others on the weight of ruin

White Space Days

There was a time when

White space welcomed me

Everything too easy

Music writing itself

No thesaurus needed

Now it’s hard labor

And second guesses

I’m that eagle hoovering

In the sky unsure where

The prey is below

Starving and desperate

  

Dancing With Books

All the books I own are

Up and dancing around me

It’s the Tower of Babel only with paper

Who knew books could be so jovial

So graced with rhythm and balance

That poetry could do the Charleston

And Samba the Blitzkrieg Bop

I get up and start moving

Can’t quite call it dancing

White men can’t jump and

That sort of thing

But I’ve got it in me now

The music spilling from those words

Sentences swaying in a close embrace

When my daughter finds us

She looks like she’s 
Caught me masturbating

Asks if I can at least t
Turn the music down

Then heads down the hall

To her own room