answers that i can’t use

as i write
each word,
each letter,

they look back
one last time

seeking the nod,
a parental prod-

‘go ahead, go on
you can do it.’

assured
they disappear
and
turn the page.

my thoughts
sculpt my form
into
a very specific
type of
accelerant.

every spark
is
the last line
of the poem

because it
slaps the page
as it occurs;

fires up
and
burns out

and
nothing
remains.

i have tried
to
take time
and bespoke
stanzas

but
the longer
i take
to get
my thoughts
out

the less likely

each line
launches its
breath.

the less likely

fruitful arguments,
blind navigations
ensue,
like shadow boxing-

this word
can’t follow
that word
and that word
follows nothing.

the less likely

a surprise
and a reminder
of the question
I dared not
utter,
appears.

and

I assure you
the last two years
did happen.

and

even though
we wrestle with
the burden of
caretaking

and

of releasing
our stories
from clenched fists

and

throats
so tightly locked
that hope almost
choked out of
them sometime around
the third wave

and

again after
the fourth
or fifth cancelled event,

we are ready
to take a chance

and

begin wishing
that we could stop
wishing for things to
be different

and

we wonder
if a life
can finally be put
in an order of
our choosing.

spark

please
write some
words today.
write what
you already
know.
write the
body.
write the
mind.
write the
soul.
not written
to make
poetic,
made written
from the
poems already
there.

precoffee

noticing deep coiled feels
pent up behind words made
almost real as waking steals
my attention. no sun rising or
bird song teasing will ease
the feelings that my art is
moving winding grooving in a 
mind not yet lit up. in 
and away from a spark in the 
falling dark thoughts are
dualling fueling pens and 
calling in a surprisingly
silent direction. my actions
of detection spring from
nothing noting herding
grabbing new wording that
preceded my thoughts - gotta
write something.

idea list

eat cake
with bare hands

use up a marker
in one sitting

run out of gas
close to home

sail a paper boat
into a storm drain

stand firmly on 
cracking river ice

find the source
of cicada sounds in 
summer