Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on that sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

there is sweat sliding down the backs of my legs.
there is sweat residing on her sleepy self as well.
the blanket is tangled in knots,
my head is anxious and irritated,
her breath is slow and rhythmic.


the night bats her eyes,
laughs with security at the sight of my sleeplessness.
the night bats her eyes,
as i roll mine and reposition my legs.


lauren woke.
she woke in wonder.
lauren woke.
all perfect, skin all white.


i offered to sleep on the floor to cool our bodies.
she clung to me like a child.
i offered to sleep on the floor to cool our bodies.
she said, "please don't leave me."


a monster and a little girl curled up tight.
i said "goodnight".
a monster and a little girl curled up tight.
until the dark lost to light.

When the rain’s pourin’ down and you’re soaking wet

I’ll be there with an umbrella

When everyone close deserts you

I’ll be there by your side

When you’re inside a burning building

I’ll be there with a garden hose

When you feel the mountain crumbling at your feet

I’ll be there with a bridge

When you’re lost

I’ll be there with a map

And when all else fails

I’ll be there with a llama

Pale summer bodies
Hairless, like fish
***** for one another, lost in the blind sea.
They shed their virginities like dead skin,
They call out to me,
Winter is over!
Take off your wool coat.
But my mother told me not to and I’m afraid.
So I watch them come to shore
With childhood running down their legs,
And into the ground like melt-water

pollen floating without a flower.
child in the street without a mother.
stray dog without a collar.
the pea rolled off the plate.
the unmatched sock in the drawer.
the lone hair follicle on the brow .
the last leaf on the tree.
me

i have trouble
with people
because we are all flawed
and i am forever forgiving.

Strephon kissed me in the spring,
Robin in the fall,
But Colin only looked at me
And never kissed at all.

Strephon’s kiss was lost in jest,
Robin’s lost in play,
But the kiss in Colin’s eyes
Haunts me night and day.

Early morning
before the sun,
I lay my head
no longer young.

Pushing for sleep,
but it is lost.
Cold *** weather
cookies been tossed.

Water glass
next to my head.
Yawning slowly,
the living dead

Sleep is distant
can barely see,
thinking of you
here next to me

Scratchy sheets
and lumpy bed.
Springs are poky
clothes been shed.

Take a pill,
take two more.
Go out to town
find a *****.

On the corner,
there she stands.
On broken glass,
and dented cans.

**** her once,
and then again.
Lay back down,
find sleep my friend...