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Time Sucks How quickly I lose my love As the pieces of it drop Down like micro mirrorballs; Tiny sparkles floating down and shattering On the roller rink floor.

Love the World You’re In When you read poems in the am, You are guaranteed To cry before noon; Life a spoon serving All of it to you. Cereal to Crunch and pop, Snap and crackle. Someone else’s widowed mother Wanders alone, hand on A porous wall, she stares out To the lashing sea. Next page, a young man, infatuated By a spider’s dexterous geometry, Ignores his own. While nearby, a child Learns of her own mortality, Releases her palm tree valentine, a Beating bleating heart, A

Logophile Poet at the March So many signs. Words Written the day before or Of. Hold them up Above us all. Photos for Instagram activism and The clever meme. Maybe. But I fear the pen. Scribe Letters as symbols of the chaos. I send laser beam Lines. Fines for harm And charms chanted: 3Xs 3Xs 3. Fall to our knees. Scatter The proud ground with prayers Dropped and shattered And confined to earth. Words without thoughts Never to Heaven go.

Art Walk Let’s stroll at the damn; Pretend the world’s not About to tumble over the net- Bobble down currents - lurching to (un) certain Demise. Not really, though. Democracy, dead - for us. But everywhere? And, sure, crispy burning and soggy south - but Some will carry on. Rats, cockroaches, savvy Rabbits. Paint the night sky; Cover up the shooting stars And asteroids we’re always Afraid will clock us. Braze iron. Forge flesh. Leave Sculptures in the dying garden:

Jeffrey Dahmer as Epigraph The body was made soft to keep us from loneliness. ~Ocean Vuong We all seek meaning in histories Told to us. A monster dead six years After your birth, how did you learn The tale of him? A picture book On cannibalism and loving someone - a stranger really - so much You need to consume them. A Place where role models Take shape in whispers From a full freezer or Brutality on the correction Center floor. This is who History allowed out to k

Dry January For Catherine O’Hara It is better to leave Early, your audience still wanting more of you - soft touch, bad joke, homemade family recipe enchiladas. Why would one stick around for a bit - after the show, post curtain call, and politely clapping for the tech crew? There won’t be as many memes then. Shuffling off modestly or slipping away under high thread-count, quiet sheets. Heart declaring it has been boring here without beer or sex or all the reasons I hung arou

Catwoman as Leonine You were the only villain I longed to be. Tight, black leather, Whip. And, oh, those ears! So Soft to the rub. Little girls Are supposed to dream of being The heroine - or even that damsel - Distressed and waiting for rescue. No one confesses the power of In the anti-hero. That, sure, although The audience may despise you On the foamy surface, that under It all they cheer for your demons. Batman Is in love. Bruce Wayne sleeps next To those damsels he has c