Skip to content →

Category: Poetry

POEM: Move To California, Call Your Ex, Become A Banker

Move To California, Call Your Ex, Become A Banker

Maybe you just haven’t found the right job.
Maybe you just haven’t found the right person.
Maybe you just haven’t found the right place.
Maybe you just don’t fit anywhere in this
round, round world and no amount of sanding down
the rough edges will ever, ever change that.
Oh look! The Great British Bake Off is on!

/ / /

25 May 2022
Pittsfield MA

Leave a Comment

(Re-post) POEM: this changes nothing

A friend asked this morning if I’d repost this poem from 2011, written after a mass shooting. In the 11 years since I wrote it, it’s never been proven wrong.


this changes nothing

you know that, don’t you?
in a few days we’ll go back to our coma
back to our flat-screen televisions
our high-definition getaways
six people? nowhere near enough
at this point, we’d need rivers of blood
flowing past the grocery store
submerging the church pews
to even catch our attention for more
than a 24-hour news cycle
for shock value I could start listing
the daily death tolls
of those without health care
or the number of children who go to bed
hungry or abused each night
right here, in the richest…
but you know the story
or choose not to know it
for less shock value
(because who really cares about them?)
I could tell you how many civilians
were killed today in Iraq or Afghanistan
or Gaza or Pakistan or Yemen
by us or by our allies or with our weapons
but what’s the use?
a new season of your favorite show
will start soon and you’ll plop down
on your couch with some popcorn
or a nice plate of nachos
and go back to sleep
in a few weeks you’ll have to
Google this date to figure out
what this poem is about
and in another few weeks after that
so will I

Leave a Comment

haiku: 24 May 2022

sparrows in the trash
breeze moves the bushes
my towel is nearly dry

/ / /

24 May 2022
Pittsfield MA

Leave a Comment

haiku: 23 May 2022

“I don’t care if you’re
black, white, green, yellow or purple”
red flag

/ / /

23 May 2022
Pittsfield MA

Leave a Comment

haiku: 21 May 2022

pooping at
Price Chopper to
Steve Winwood’s “Higher Love”

/ / /

21 May 2022
Pittsfield MA

Leave a Comment

POEM: The Danger

The Danger

The danger of recording
your life on video and audio
is that you can be cleaning out
a cloud drive and come across
the face and voice and laugh and shape
of the person who broke your heart
and it still pierces your center
and yet you still know … the thing you know.

/ / /

20 May 2022
Pittsfield MA

Leave a Comment

Soup’s On!

Soup’s On!

My skull is filled with alphabet soup. Occasionally the letters make a word, but mostly they slosh around, defeating my every attempt to make sense of them. It wasn’t always this way. My brain used to be a series of filing cabinets. The drawers were shallow but numerous; an inch of information about any particular subject, miles of breadth. Just enough knowledge to stay in most conversations, not enough to truly master any one subject. That was fine. I liked that. A friend called it “librarian brain.” Who doesn’t like librarians? But “soup brain”? That has neither the same ring nor the same positive connotation. Soup brain means never quite having the details at my fingertips; a blank spot on the tip of my tongue. I don’t think it’s a sign of disease. Rather, it’s a symptom of discombobulation. The circumstances of my external world are so disordered that my internal landscape can’t help but reflect them. My prediction is that the presence of family and friends, along with a place to live and a more stable life, will slowly drain the soup, revealing the long rows of shallow cabinets that have been there all along.

/ / /

18 May 2022
Pittsfield MA

Leave a Comment