--I DON’T KNOW IF YOU WANT ME, BUT YOU GOT ME

…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.

-->

--YOU ARE MY MOST RECENT MEMORY

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

--WE COULDN’T GET ANY CLOSER IF WE TRIED

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.