Poems

Morning Before You Wake I’m awake before her — always have been, I’m wired earlier —and there’s a half hour between my waking and hersthat I don’t tell many people about, because it soundseither boring or unsettling depending on who’s listening.I make coffee, I sit with it at the kitchen window,I look at the yard […]

Mother’s Day Middle of the day and sleep just won’t come nearThe ghosts are walking circles and the house feels sharp and clearAn image caught me sideways, sent me reeling back in timeTo a kid with his Nintendo and his mother on her dime She watched the screen like it was church, addicted to the

Mirror Mirror Hit The Floor Walked into the room and the room forgot to breatheEvery head was turning like a flag in a hurricane breezeLeather jacket, jawline, hair like a crime sceneSharpest thing in this whole town and you know just what I meanMy mama said be humble, my daddy said the sameI smiled at

Mirror On The CeilingSome men bolt mirrors to the ceiling, need to catchthemselves mid-act and find it good,need to watch the rendering of a manwho moves through the world like he owns it.I know that hunger. I know how it gnaws. I put up a ceiling fan instead.After years of the mirror kicking my ass,I

Midnight Mind The midnight mind is a different creature than the daytime one,it has its own jurisdiction, its own work that must be doneby 4 AM, it visits every unattended debt,every word I have left unspoken and the ones I should forget.It starts in the specific: a conversation from last spring,the specific phrase I used

Mind SpiderI’ve been threaded through the sinew of this city’s daily rot,Lacing silk behind every institution, every scheme and plot.I don’t require your faith or acknowledgment to thrive—I subsist on the momentum of each system kept alive. I am the web beneath the ones who think they lead,The silent hypothesis that fuels their rhetoric and

Mental Two SecondsI’m feeling mental these days.Not insane. Cerebral.Not losing my mind—lost within it. Two seconds:the held breath before a lover’s eyes find yours,the frozen instant when a door swings wide to “Surprise!”Just before those words land like a punch,when you swallow too hard and the world goes white.The fraction between a bullet’s entryand the

Matches in the Rain (Saint Jude) (v5)Hey Jude. Don’t make it sad. If hope is a muscle, let it twitch.If peace is real, let it sit.I’ll take small mercies that don’t announce themselves—I’ll take a night that doesn’t argue. I’ve been living off the change that falls between bad days,finding grace in borrowed light, bent

Mental 2025 I am feeling mental these days, not locked up, just wired wrong,Head like a bad late night station playing the same sad song too long,Wake up already tired, scroll the news, feel my stomach drop and spin,Make a joke about burnout in the mirrorwhile I shave around the places I have been. Everybody

Loud Under The SkinI don’t stage-dive.I don’t grandstand.My revolutionsare in my hands—tattooed under work gloves,knuckles bearing the print of laborwhile the boss talks lovethrough clenched teeth.Headphones at full volume.Clock hits zero—I’m gone.That “family” at the gate?I leave it there. They beg for spotlights,chase views like coins.Me? I shift one ruleinside my own skull,my own shoes.I