POEM

MY TEETH SOMETIMES HURT
A BAD DECISION IS TO HURT
A BAD LIFE IS TO LIVE WITHOUT
WATCHING A SUN SINK INTO THE OCEAN

MY MOST PROBABLE DEATH IS ALONE
MY MOST PROBABLE FEAR IS ALONE
MY MOST PROBABLE LOVE IS ALONE
BUT IT IS NOT

LET IT BE KNOWN
THAT ALONE IS NOT ENOUGH

POEM

IT’S ALMOST LIKE WALKING DOWN THE SHORE OF MORSE RESERVOIR
AT NIGHT, KICKING ROCKS
BY WHICH I MEAN I HAVE EARNED SOMETHING
BUT THE WATER MADE MY MOTHER SICK ONCE

SO I AM AFRAID TO WADE IN
AND THERE IS SOMETHING HERE THAT I AM AFRAID TO ADMIT
WHICH MIGHT BE LOVE
OR IT MIGHT BE SOMETHING WORSE

IF I TOLD YOU WHAT IT WAS
I WOULD BE AFRAID

BEEN PUBLISHED ON A BAR