the masked avenger

always ready
it's not so much
what you've done

when you're poor
you don't travel
to far-flung places

you prepare.

but what you're ready for
what you're willing to humor
bones to hardwood
for my favorite music
dancing in the ungodly morning

ready to be troublesome
a hero-in-waiting
a mind broad and beautiful

my masked avenger
backpack full
my rumpled knight
my warmth
when winter comes

fear

what happens when you get married

and don't leave yourself out in plain

sight of those you've put on makeup

for those you want to find you which

is why you wore a bright color and 

sat visibly where they could see you

it's the way you find someone you 

could love by waiting for that moment

to casually encounter what was so 

planned so planned that you have to 

put that lipstick away because you 

shouldn't wait for anyone else anymore

but where do you put all of the old

anticipation?

v v v v v v v v v

always a woman
always an intersection
wide and loving
in my steps
I carry the choices
made and unmade
I hold both paths
I rejoice and regret
the one I chose
the one I left behind
always an intersection

front pew people

joy so light

you drift to your feet

swaying awkwardly

clapping without rhythm

facing forward

looking away from those

glued and tacky

unwilling to rise

you look

clear and

overflowing

winter

It's better to
feel the cold
the assault
on the inside of
my thighs
pinching my arm
to feel the outline
of muscles
the long stretch
of bone,
winter's bite.
Knowing
starlight
on the move.
Better than the
allure of dark days
softening
hot and lazy,
To be
wolfish
and lonely.

neatly

being in school
should make you better at writing poetry
but it makes you worse

words are chores
to fold

neatly.

perfect ten

arriving at the gas station
the display reads 10.00 even
an impressive feat
or a familiar marker
from that time we were sixteen
and rode around in bright colored cars
decades old
cars that bled gas
and gas was cheap
if you weren't sixteen
we threw around the largest bills we could find
walking inside to buy gum
to put 10.00 even
on pump number five

he would drive me
regina spektor through open windows
we didn't have anywhere to go
we wanted to go everywhere
she always asked me for that extra cash
he never did
just put his arm around me
on the sandy ground by the river

i put my oh so adult
and expensively adorned left hand in my pocket
keying in my hometown zipcode
knowing those five digits won't last much longer
watching the numbers fly up
leaving a perfect 10.00
for the next car to pull in

lavender blue

winter is coming
winter is coming

the sticky fingers of pines
grab the air
the light that is fast disappearing
it is pale
it is cool

benediction

under the crickets and orange night
my shadow stretches long and wide
feeling glad and full
the skies open up deep
rain on my footsteps
finding my way in places


prayers drift out after me
somber alleluias

quiet amens
and i close my door
shedding piety to become human again

go in peace
to love and serve
the God who is ribcage cracking
the communion of blood and saints
the virility of Christ
now stretching into always


to love the One
who breathes through spaces too big
who fills night
with light and darkness just the same
my body
my blood

while everyone else is at the party

and i am tired
waiting on the couch for you to come home
remembering as i always do
how it would be nicer to have some good fiction around
something to keep me preoccupied
to keep quiet evenings

and for you to come home
because i don't want to be with everyone else
just you
if you could read a book with me
or just sit on the couch
we could light a candle or two
put on some music we don't know

i've been waiting since before i met you
because i've always thought of home
as this place where all that i've collected
meets those i love
salvaged years of bad poetry
away from the noise
in the silence of my room
i am firm and forbearing

(re)awakening

at once
glancing out of
worn tread time

finding again
a vast internal expanse


forgiveness is being yourself
full of grace
beautiful

it's emptying
eyes open
remembered music and words
so familiar again

at last

anointed

filing forward
for a bit of
smudged oil

it's sacrilege to say it
but it's a buzz
like your hand on my thigh
after a few beers

being touched
so intimately
being marked
being seen

gifts

gumball machine, now half empty
teapot
lights, colorful
electric kettle
couch
rug
chair #1
chair #2
chair #3
magnet, of my brother's golf picture
blanket, homemade
pillows more stolen than gifted
printer
"mighty orca"
solitary wine glass
box full of trinkets
autographed baseball
blue headphones

generosity abounds
and I am full.

23

the way i see it
you can go one of two ways
and i'm watching some of my friends flee
to big sky

able
to leave it all behind
freedom of words
eyes open

or
to root

to ask questions
of the place you're in
and it's all about noticing
the loneliness of a bus driver
who notices back
a conversation balanced
on cottonwood
in the air

puppy

you see,
i was a puppy once.

oh, i followed him around
hoping for a chance to ride in his truck
to stick my head out the window
hoping he would just want to go on adventures
and play

but then
he scolded me
and told me,
"no more!"

and i slunk off
tail between my legs
and decided to grow up

because if you don't have fun,
i thought,
you can't get hurt.

but i was a puppy once, too.

slow

this time is different

because i have remembered
how to be happy
exactly here

and i remembered
the luxury of ordering takeout
and sleeping in pretty things

i am slow to get out of bed
not because the day holds nothing for me
but because i enjoy
the feeling
of being where i am

friendship

i don't know why
i care about my aloe plant so much.

i just can't seem to figure it out
first it droops
then i water it too much
then too little
then i accidentally left it on the heater
and part of it got a little shriveled up
and i felt so sad.

but some days
my green friend
stands up straight and tall,
so i salute.

i smile to think
that together
we might actually make
a pretty good team.

nosebleed

anger is like an itch
you can't scratch
because your arms are too short
and like everything else
it's too far away
to do anything good about it

and i've been so dry.

every morning i wake up
fighting a nosebleed
i'm emptying
from the inside out


and i've been so dry.
and all i want
is to be all and in all
and not just leave
my bloody self behind
bit by bit

and i've been so dry.

nonsense

i think maybe
i'll have short hair
and wear pearls
when i get a little older
and i get my feet under me
when i have some idea
of how to keep
everything in its place
and people will look at me
and say
oh yes
we can trust that woman
they will not even know
how unruly
i was in my youth
how many years it took me
to get everything
in its place
oh yes
the pearls will say it all

sabbath

i think sabbath
must be like chasing
an old friend
a great, playful golden retriever
in circles around the house
without paying attention
to getting anywhere