The depth
of the conversation
ruined
by the waitress
pouring us water

clouds in my coffee
across the counter
you offer
to read the grinds
in this empty cup

caught
by the landlord
she shows me
her coffee spoon
collection

after commenting
on my choice
of soup
I know she’s digging
for conversation

top quarter champion

top half champion

bottom quarter champion

sheathed sword
sitting in the corner
of my room
I wonder
if it gets bored

angry ships
engaged in
an epic battle
inside
my head

sermon on
the end of the world
I want to be
that little boy
rocked in mother's lap

Rocking you in my arms
as if you were my child
such a fragile thing
who'd have thought
I'd become a cat person

top half champion

champion

bottom half champion

nobody knows
the end of the story
in these dark days
how can we move on
love?

why would
a girl like me
ever complain about
this crazy, oh so tragic
life I love

four o’ clock
in the morning
and this world
beautiful silent world
is all mine

late at night,
driving through the corn fields,
head feeling so heavy
while my neck and shoulders
want to crumble to the ground

top quarter champion

bottom half champion

bottom quarter champion

three words . . .
that’s all it takes
to send me
sulking
across campus

watching
it crawl
I warn her
too late
squish

Goodnight
tucked into bed
I escape into
a world
of dreams

this big jump
into the abyss
I hold my breath
fold my hands
and free fall