work

sometimes you're high
at work
but hey, you're still chopping
onions
just fine
sometimes i wonder what you think
of me
so quiet
sometimes i think back to
my unrestrained chatter
so nervous and unaware
of the broken world
that first summer
working
i'll gladly do dishes
if i get a smile

unedit

i think i'm alive
really alive
when i'm in my car
in between
places
with no pressure
of editing speech
or action
or fitting snugly
into expectations
where i can chew with my mouth open
and sing songs loudly or softly
when i pray and feel
and smell and breathe
when i am free to roam
and simply go
without
pressure of tomorrow
or yesterday
without
deciding if the time is good or bad
this is when i live
in
the
wide open
moment

late call

a secret
lost on our
unequal sentiments

he dodged my
obvious interest with flattery
of another

deflections and rejections
and mumbled ends about
being tired

silly me
called a boy
much
too
late.

summer routine

i sat on my porch
ready to put up a wall
and instead i'm happy
that you biked over to simply talk about
grapes
and hopefully
this
will be routine