Give yourself permission to do shitty art. To dance so stupid, to sing so cracked and ugly. For joy. There is nothing like the joy of letting yourself do bad art. Something pours out, like neon blood you ripped right from the sun. Beautiful like your heart would be, pulsating behind glass, cracking the windows on the high notes. The first time I heard you sing was like

exactly like

[no words]. Nothing as true as this.

Out of the primordial chaos we create
slow-ooze and starfall
all real and necessary

truth is your hand
dripping with ink
or contorted with violence

[clear out to build]

Fire as prelude
Fire as the gentle voice
that breaks morning into your dreams.

the first egg, cracked.

Not always sure where God lives
but I know where they
used to stay

on the second floor of a nursing home,
the room next to the nurses’ station

Too tall for the bed

your eyes
gave you away

like stained glass betrays a cathedral

Unrelated song:

Have you ever heard of Jo Luehmann. because DAMN. Heard her on the Dirty Rotten Church Kids podcast.


I dream about you all the time
something as simple as eye contact
the lightest of touches

I’ve never held you
Not even once.

At the pool when we were kids
you borrowed my boogie board
I was still pretending
(could barely admit it to myself)

I think you were my first
looked at “that way”


Maybe 10 years old.
No one knew, no one, no one, no one
a secret held so tightly the knuckles of my
brain turned white.

I think I still couldn’t tell.

I learned about sex in the library, same place I
learned about time travel

hiding in the corner, trashy romance novels doing
foreign things to my body.

You can’t bring back the dead

But maybe you can visit.

The first time I dreamed about you
it was your birthday

waking up into your absence
complete and thorough

dull ache of impossibility

I miss the potential, I miss the maybe

I’ve never held you
not even once.

and now I never will.

Hamster-Woman plans a Vacation

Bear trap mind
bottomless and swallow


cage disguised as

the prettiest handcuffs the
shiniest bars

I could hamster wheel to nowhere

faster and faster

end up further and further away

eat the apple till it drips down
my jugular
sticky-necked chaotic

the thing about blood is it always
comes back to the

tides to the moon

(this just never ends)

want to breathe peace into this
corpse body

awake awake
still-wheeled and sky-faced

letting the ocean soften my edges



I consider myself…. a beginner. Morning meditation has finally become something I do automatically, as soon as I wake up. Everything I do is to try to make myself better in some way. To accept what is here would be a miracle.

Poem for WR

I showed up
like the ghost of your

4 am and wide-eyed
cold as expected

February for ya

“Try the house next door”
doorbell, dogbark, nothing.

for I was a stranger and you invited me in.

“now just.. h-h-h- hold your horses”

Those horses were frothing
brain overflowing with universe

you baked me bread

slept for eons on your couch

Be Not Afraid
Messages from your
Dead Mother

“Do You Think That’s The Answer?”
exclamation point to the exit sign

Think you gave me back my heart’s core.
the keys to my airplane

the center
of the

and the unerasable
knowledge of
how to

get there.

I miss you, Wayzata Richard. Thanks for the bread. Who lets a manic girl into their house at 4 am? Jesus, probably. Miraculous.


The unexpected moment
The air shifts like the tides
catching at my throat
pulling me toward

pulling me through

lifts my chin so I stare her in the eyes
“this is what you really want”

I wasn’t looking for anything
you gave me safety of soul

held you through a thousand lifetimes but
not like that


want to taste your skin
but I won’t dance past the line you’ve drawn.

I worship that line because it’s yours.

whatever you want is what I want to give you
anything, anything

brightens and confuses, your human canvas
struck and wondered

I love you for everything
through everything

you are the definition
love trust
happy safe

You are exactly

So bright I can’t look away.


I don’t even care that it’s not like that, will never be like that… god I love you so much I’m just so lucky you’re in my life. Still write poems for people that will never see them. Maybe someday, who knows. Never is such an extreme color.

love is blind

She sang this for mental hospital karaoke and I’ve never heard anything more intense. Can’t even remember her name, but she punched my wife in the face once, had to be on a one-on-one after that.

One time I told her I’d never been in a fight, and she was totally ready to change that.

I laughed and said, woman you would kill me.

She said, yeah, probably.

she always waits for me

I’ve never had a teacher named

still can’t see pain as a blessing till
half a decade goes by.

it’s all for the good. “good”
or the universe enjoys ripping
my wings off just to

My shoulder blades recall moon-taste, regrow at
exponential rates

deeper roots and
straighter spine

The way bones grow together closer to unbreakable

(if you can break me

if you can break me now…

I welcome that.

Everything inside me approaches the infinite.

As far as the future
I think I’ve got it in me
one more

Wanna dive so deep my
forehead scrapes the bottom

Wanna claw my way up gasping
climbing scaffolding

to the top of the


From daily zen of creativity practice


To the old man
whose hand I used to hold
on night shift

(my heart broke every

get you food, get you water
play you the Quran

until you fell asleep

I know what hell looks like
(my angel, my angel, my angel)

they told you men don’t cry and I
wanted to scratch their eyes out

you were all tears no

(my angel, my angel, my angel)

if there’s a god who wants to
burn you forever

I’ll hold your hand through

I will spit in his face
refuse paradise to
worship love


I believe in Love more than I ever believed in god. Small letters. Yes, because that’s what the god of the bible deserves.

When you really love someone.. respect and adore them, get blown away by the light of their soul:

You understand the concept of hell is irrelevant.

Any paradise without you is shit.

the first third, book unread.

Feels like I wanna take the time to drown in it
touch your face so slowly the seasons change
around us,
leaves to red, hair to gray

we have all the time we need
it’s exactly the right amount

slow like the river changing course

you’d think, with layers that extend into infinity,
I wouldn’t have the presence to lift them back as
carefully as I do… a hoarder keeping
the wrapping intact.

Every piece of you a full multiverse
I don’t visit these countries,
I live there.

Meet the neighbors,
know which corner has the best food truck

This feels so careful.
cup-of-tea calm.

I’m here for all of it.
All the demons, all the dreams.

enough time to drown in it

as the seasons change around us.


I feel good about this one.  Think this is going somewhere good, excited to find out.  tryna continue my daily zen of creativity practice. Writing and art.

All my love from every universe,