To Poetry, IV

Anymore, all I
Ever feel is guilt. All you
Feel is everything.

To Poetry, III (a haiku)

Something about touch.
Something about the unknown.
Something about pears.

scrambled (a haiku)

grab the spatula

scrape me across the floor i’ll

harden over time

Nothing Profound (two haikus)

I.
There’s more than one way
To live. Aside from breathing,
What are the secrets?

II.
Don’t let a good quote
Fuck with you- we all have some
Quotable advice.

In June I Get Overwhelmed (a haiku)

My grandparents’ ditch
Is filled with forget-me-nots.
Tell me what that means.

To Poetry, II (a haiku)

I live one million
Poems a minute and this
Is all I bring you.

To Poetry, I

I lean on you but
There is no substance to it,
Just half baked haikus.

Thanks in Late May (a haiku)

While the dog pissed, I

Honored the rain soaked lilacs 

In my mom’s front yard.

Two Snails

Two snails joined me
In my brain, tucked
Just behind my eyeballs-
“Look slowly,” they begged.

So I closed my eyes
And had dreams instead.

Untitled in Late May (a haiku)

I think of you most
When I’m not writing poems—
Which is often, now.