Wednesday, February 28, 2018


…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.

Monday, February 26, 2018



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

Friday, February 23, 2018


Dear God,
I understand you’re as mysterious as hell, but couldn’t you, just once in a while, be a bit more blatant about things, you know, just to help us stooges figure things out?

Dear God,
You’ve probably never felt foolish, but I do, a lot of the times. Can you help me out with that?

Dear God,
I hate the tendency I have to always ask you for things, for great favors, as if you’re some rich, benevolent uncle I have.  But you did say to ask, and maybe that’s why I do.  After all, you shouldn’t say something if you don’t really mean it.

Dear God,
Do you ever get bored?  With all the shit going on, and lame people like me leaning on you all the time, I’m guessing not.  But do you ever?  Come on, you can tell me.  I’m the best secret-keeper ever.

Dear God,
I vividly remember the night I told you I hated you.  I asked you for something and you were not in the gift-giving mood right then, apparently.  I was moving away from my first love and you let that happen, though I asked you not to.  Of course, I was fourteen at the time, stupid as hell.  So, I just want to go on record and say I’m sorry for saying I hate you, God.  I hope you’ll accept my apology.

Dear God,
You’ve done a lot of amazing things, but I think Jesus is the most amazing thing you thought up, though I know you didn’t think him up.  Still, good job, God.

Dear God,
Thank you for creating elephants and giraffes and deer and butterflies.  They’re really wonderful.  And thank you for Lucy.  Thank you, a lot, for Lucy.

Dear God,
When I worked at the church—no maybe, before that—the pastor said (when I was still a Doubting Thomas), “Ask God for a miracle.  Any miracle at all.  If he doesn’t answer it, then don’t believe.”
Since then I’ve gotten better at asking for things.  I hope it hasn’t been too much.

Dear God,
I know if everyone believed things would be way better off.  Just thought I’d let you know that.  And by the way, you’re doing a good job, despite the Twitter feeds.

Dear God,
No offense or anything, but we here on planet earth could use an updated version of what heaven looks like.  Streets paved with gold doesn’t exactly cut it.  They have those at the Microsoft campus.

Dear God,
Did you not like being a child?  (I didn’t either.)  There’s hardly any record of you as a kid and where there is, well, you’re actually kind of a wise-ass.  (just, sayin’.)

Dear God,
You must laugh a lot.  Like when sports teams pray to you for them to have your grace so they can get victory.  Isn’t that just the dumbest shit ever?

Dear God,
I like to swear.  I hope you can overlook that.  I hope you can overlook a lot of my flaws.