I Thought I Heard the Door Open
I spent the evening by the window
looking out into the sky
above the palms
when I thought I heard the front door
being quietly shut.
I looked over my shoulder
to nothing and turned
back to the window.
Then a rattling
of something being placed on the counter.
I looked back again, holding
for a few seconds.
When I felt the room become too quiet,
I turned all the way around,
anticipating someone there
planning to scare me
for a laugh.
This time, I waited.
I tell everyone that my home
is always open.
Tonight, I was mistaken
when I thought I heard
the door open.
Now this is what it must have felt like
on the first full night before God
cast down brilliant sun
across the earth.
Cold, empty,
Abandoned.
Every Day I Treat My Tomorrow-Self Like Shit
I escape to my apartment
away from the sun, so the room
can return to its obdurate loop
of silence.
To think, whatever it is, I need to think.
It’s all just shades of blue
like a dream, forcing me
to feel everything.
Until my heavy head pours
into my hands
every single day.
The Couple Upstairs
It is a Friday night and there is no sign
of life from upstairs, which is fascinating.
The neighbors haven’t been as cinematic lately.
Their last showcase got physical, and I could hear it all.
A paper bag could hide more
than these walls do.
If they are arguing tonight,
it is in silence.
Perhaps with chalkboards,
or sign language.
I make a joke that one is probably dead.
No one ever laughs.
Across the way children are playing!
One couple makes love with the windows up!
And for the first time
I hear a midnight flight
pass overhead.
Ghost Orchids
What my body knows belongs
to me in fortunes, undefined
leafless as the Ghost Orchids
thriving in the wake of floods.
Beautiful, inundated.
It rains for the sake of raining
Other times it is the cathedral.
what my body knows
belongs to me.
How Much Gratitude
Gathering the last flowers
in the vault of my Heaven
to proudly stand in the light
of Yours.
Alien Buddha Press 