Millisecond Thoughts

Stuck in the past, I go from happy to sad and back again in a flash. I feel too much, much too fast. I have poems to write, but not enough rhyme.

Frost is on my mind. There are two trains at my station, but only one for me to ride. It’s been a long millisecond. When will I get on with my life?

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Why The Moon Is A Wild Creature

Below is the inspiration for my latest poem, “The Moon Is a Wild Creature.” It’s a passage by Hayden Carruth from Reluctantly: Autobiographical Essays.

Hat tip to Jacqueline Winter Thomas and her Tumblr page, heteroglossia, where I found Carruth, sad in the Universe.

“I had always been aware that the Universe is sad; everything in it, animate or inanimate, the wild creatures, the stones, the stars, was enveloped in the great sadness, pervaded by it. Existence had no use. It was without end or reason. The most beautiful things in it, a flower or a song, as well as the most compelling, a desire or a thought, were pointless. So great a sorrow. And I knew that the only rest from my anxiety—for I had been trembling even in infancy—lay in acknowledging and absorbing this sadness.”

The Moon Is A Wild Creature

The moon is a wild creature.
Stars are stones in the sky.

I toss and turn in an empty river bed,
anxious for the rest of my life.

I read Sartre’s plays religiously,
just the funny ones, while pondering

simple things like black holes, folding
river beds, and God’s infinite field of vision.

My mind trembles.
The moon is still

a wild creature.
I can’t forgive myself

for all the pain
I put God through.

The moon resembles a wild creature.
Stones are fallen stars

asleep in a river bed
where I buried my dreams.

The moon is something else.
Stones and stars are different things

all together.
I count thirty-three shepherds

and a flock of non-believers
digging for answers

beyond my wildest dreams—
convinced my life unfolds

without me
in an infinite field

where God throws
thirty-three shepherds

and a flock of non-believers
down a black hole for trespassing.

Ode: Lake Arlington Larry

Here’s to a gentle man
Walking counterclockwise
In the bike lanes
Around Lake Arlington
Smiling like a child

Here’s to a gentle man
An earth-conscious soul
And repeat recycler
Digging through trash cans
For plastic gold

Here’s to a gentle man
Humming a tune
No one else hears
While mothers stretch
Their legs in yoga pants

Here’s to a gentle man
A shirtless student
Of suburban Zen
Timing his laps
With an ancient stopwatch

Here’s to a gentle man
Who calls himself Larry
Waving at strangers
On different paths
To the same destiny

Breakup Song

Tell me what will be will be no more
Tell me we just drifted apart
Tell me love hurts
Tell me love scars

Tell me I was your thirst
Tell me you think of me when you hum
Tell me I sweat the small stuff
Tell me to grow a pair

Tell me size more or less matters
Tell me I’m the one that got away
Tell me love is a battlefield
Tell me all you need is lust

Tell me I’m more than a hound dog
Tell me I’m a good boy
Tell me I drove you mild
Tell me I don’t look fat in these jeans

Tell me nice guys let the girl finish first
Tell me you never faked the news
Tell me you bought my book on Amazon
Tell me the shipping was free

Tell me God is binge-watching us
Tell me everybody dies in the end
Tell me I’m a good sinner
Tell me fate isn’t fair

Tell me what will be will be no more
Tell me we just drifted apart
Tell me love hurts
Tell me love scars

Summer Solstice

Forget snowstorms
And wind chills

I want Summer
In my hemisphere
This Valentine’s

A flirty girl
With strappy shoes
And silver toe rings
To boot

Baring her soles
At the foot
Of my bed

To soothe me
And for me
To soothe