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You allow me the
Privilege, honor
The sheer audacity
Of Being
My truest self,
In all its faults and glories,
All my misgivings laid bare
Mixed amongst the flowers
Growing here,
in the garden we have
Cultivated.
And for that I can say
With no trepidation
You are the reasons
I wish to be the best version
of Me.

Breakfast

A sudden stop, stumbling out of 

Whatever fantasy my subconscious allowed

Me. Seven minutes before the alarm 

Shrieks. Gather my naked body, find 

The clothes, the shocks, one shoe 

No, two shoes. Wallet, keys, door code 

And I’m off. Out the garage with purpose

And doubt, and a list that I’m keeping  

Fumble through ambient light, aisles 

A few faces passerby. List, list, where 

My list in progress, created, completed. 

My plastic for your goods, and I am away. 

Hand meets pan, meets butter, meets egg. 

Toaster falls for bread, meat falls for heat. 

And I am cracking shells, sizzle serenade 

Fuck, start the coffee pot. Eight cups before death. 

And suddenly I’m walking, feet fall upon floorboard

Fall upon stairs. Hands full, heart fulfilled, you

Soon to be engorged. Affection, affirmative, awake. 

Placed upon the sheets with care. 

I find that you have no appetite for breakfast. Not

Terribly surprising. A nibble here, plate disregarded for

Coffee and steam, and creamer. Precariously positioned

Upon the sheets. Good morning to you.

Who’s Joy Sullivan?

In the interest of honest, I find myself 

Baffled, and curious, in the face of others. I go 

Forward, unyielding, with gumption and caffeine  

As I finish the iced coffee I pilfered. A small, 

homely spot. Step one, square one, of my morning 

Journey. Next on my agenda, a market, waking and 

Quaking with life. Wave to the florists, and the meat 

Purveyors. I’m suddenly praying for an unfamiliar 

Face, prayers unanswered. Sometimes I’m right

But I as I mentioned before, I am often not. 

I find myself screaming, internally, obviously for 

I’m not prone to making a scene, not here

Not now.

Idris

Cast me across the cosmos, unending

Void consumes all matter. Light absent  

In an endless abyss with nothing but thought

And self reliance, or self abuse. Save yourself

For I am tormented by them, they, and me. 

The crushing darkness a cushion against the

Gravatic drives spinning up, spin me down as 

The ship cedes control to fallible human hands. 

I am in control of the tiny metal hunk that hurdles

Through an unforgiving, star-lit stage. Lost

Amongst the reeds and synapses, the tiny

Blinking lights on the hud, warning,

Warning…

Warning…