Youth
Why do children throw rocks at signs?
Is it because they long to make an impact on a world that gives them no control?
Is it to unleash a pent up anger that they dare not show in front of adults?
Is it because they haven’t been given the tools to create so instead they try to destroy what others have created?
Personally…
I think it’s just easier than throwing signs at rocks.
Why do children throw rocks at signs?
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A Note on Cats
Some people think cats don't care about anything.
It's easy to look at their behavior
and get the idea that they don't feel.
Not like dogs anyway
who are so forthcoming.
Cats hardly notice you.
However,
just like the shy, laconic coworker–
the one that never gets drinks after work,
and never chats at the water cooler,
and eats lunch by himself,
the one who could be married with kids
or single and childless
for all you know,
who doesn't do small talk,
and never has weekend plans,
–just like that guy,
cats are more complicated than they seem.
It's not that they don't care,
It's that they don't want to show
how much they care.
They don't want to be vulnerable
because they promised themselves
they wouldn't get hurt again…
…I am still talking about cats.
Some people think cats don't care
about anything.
If I Die Today
It's Tuesday.
I can have tacos
one last time.
Of course, you can have tacos
any day of the week.
But they taste better
half-priced.
It's Tuesday.
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Lost Days
On cold New England mornings,
memories such as these
howl in so suddenly
carried on a breeze.
Transported in an instant
to another early noon
the feelings of that place return
persistent as a catchy tune.
I can’t recall why we fought.
The reasons didn’t make a mark.
But how dumb we were
for letting our relationship go dark.
Each day that passed without speaking
like a car buried in the snow.
And then as if a blizzard passed
with depths we cannot know.
Consumed by the memory
I felt a violent shake.
My sorrow was asleep before
but now it is awake.
I wish to hibernate no more
eager to take flight.
Time should not be wasted
I know I’ve seen the light.
If you’re willing to hear me
what I’m trying to say is
I’m sorry for lost days
and for pushing you away.
On cold New England mornings,
memories such as these
howl in so suddenly
carried on a breeze.
I guess I don’t have a say
where my mind will go today.