heaven

everything would be yellow
and i could scribble poetry
on building walls
thoughts would transmit musically
and i would float like leafy scarfs
passion would be breathed in
my toes would be warm
there'd be no need for mirrors
while laughter would ring as my anthem
this is where you will find me
but for now
i can only fondle delicate apricots
at winn dixie
to make my fingerprints smile

let me down

no matter how many times my hands are washed
i still smell like paper bags
and you wallow in a bin of scissors
collected memories on harvested postcards
escalate their way to you
we’re both in delicate denial
of hiding behind our back
the things we push away with our other arm
and sometimes i wish
i were small enough to swing on the hanger
draped on my closet’s doorknob
maybe then i could shrink away
and fall asleep on powdered donuts

visit

fan blades moving constantly
but never getting anywhere
that's who i am
and when i look into his eyes
i think only one thing -
god is the master poet -
and that thought chants relentlessly
it's instinct
just like the geese we saw this morning
the white ones in a group on the right
the mixed colors on the left
and we chased them into the goodbye sunrise