Untitled Poem I 

The rafters creak like
old bones remembering what
little youth they have

left, lamenting their lost days,
musings taken by the wind.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Untitled Poem II

Your touch went from a
weather worn pebble 
to a fleck of coarse velcroe

coming off as a prickly
pear with an axe to grind,
but I was content to clasp

your hands for a moment
longer, then simply nurse
my old wounds in due time

after I'd already forgotten
every syllable of your name.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Untitled Poem III

Sparrows haven't the
time for mourning doves and their
lachrymose piping.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Untitled Tercet I

I'm the unwitting moth and 
you're the distant bonfire

coercing me to crash and burn.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Untitled Tercet II

By this verse of poetry,
I will the line of men to march
straight unto the noose's thread.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Untitled Quatrain

Give me a lover, a face to confide in,
give me a home with a rust-coloured siding,
give me a purpose yet hidden in view
then give me a sign that there's much left to do.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Untitled Musing I

Up until now, I'd never truly
looked at my hospital brace:
it's like a serpent consuming
its own tail, resembling the kind
of logic I'd always despised.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Untitled Musing II

Perhaps the most glamorous part
of any apocalypse, is that
one's life from before means nothing;

it's a clean slate, a fresh face,
whatever turn of phrase happens
to strike your fancy:

your status becomes invalid,
and your education becomes the
valuable commodity it was meant to be.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Untitled Stanza

White-washing the bitter sun
with a polymorphic resin,

a snare that travels like a
set of veins, then culminates
as a barbed wire bear-trap
worn like a bandolier 

by a proud soldier...