When you die
People you will have never met
will give your family condolences

When you die
Spurned former lovers will
send delicate flowers

When you die
People will be summoned to
make you look beautiful

The way that you felt on nights
you enjoyed being yourself the most

When you die
Cautious children will cry
without ever learning
of your conflicting views on children

When you die
They might hang the church wall
with pictures of weddings
and graduations

When you die
You may not be alone

When you die
You might be the first and
the others will all follow

Having made no preparations of their own.

When you die
They might play your favorite song
or they might play a more "appropriate" song
as they lead you away
and some people will be scolding themselves
about forgetting where they parked

When you die
They may have forgotten that you didn't
believe in the afterlife
Quotations from Leviticus notwithstanding

When you die
You could be the the one who made
the most important impact on your daughter or son's life
You might have their life worth living

When you die
It may be to no applause

When you die
It may inspire your mother's gynecologist
to visit a church for the first time in almost half a decade
and feel genuine empathy for the rituals of human dignity
regardless of the tribe

When you die
none of your siblings may attend
the rain might pore on your last parade
and people might go home early

When you die
Everybody may just have a great time
heads beaming, shoulders high

When you die
It might be the longest day of Summer
with waterfights in the park near you were born.

When you die
You will have lived to see
all your ambitions come alive
Even if that penpusher "Reality"
explicitly states otherwise.

What is one second on a Monday morning following a night of no sleep in a Dunkin Donuts on some Main Street where I’ll walk with a cigarette for the third time; I think second-hand smoke has been cajoling me, and now I’m awake with nicotine. But what is the difference between a smothered Marlboro light and some nervous lecture on a sad scholarly venture? I cannot pull the smoke vicious into my lungs any more than I can break the vicious stammering circle. And what is one hour of discourse-accompanied indigestion, pacing, and anxiety, if not thirty-six-thousand possible seconds spent in a Dunkin Donuts on Monday mornings with no sleeping? When time is finite and eternal then there is no escaping the monotonous chaos, and we’re thrown about aimlessly, like dice in dimension infinity.

Hello, cute boy from my English class.
Who makes up secret handshakes and tolerates my laugh.
I thought you were common, simply sporty and tall.
But resent discovery shows that's not right at all.

Love blooms in winter, and I'm noticing some rain.
It begins to hail and snow when someone says your name.
I can no longer write poetry and my homework is past due.
My mind is too distracted with the need to talk to you.

So let us talk, my dear. Let us conversate.
Let's talk for so long we get to class late.
Today's a conversation but tomorrow is a kiss.
In your eyes I see the future and in your hands I'll find my bliss.

The moon is bright
The stars are heavy
Anchors of light
Holding steady

They breathe with the motion
Of a thousand waves
Little dots in an ocean
Swimming to forgotten graves

When sunlight rises
Over the bold horizon
Their twisted shadows burn
In shallow crisis

Wreathed in fire
Their flames die out
Like candles to a pyre
Or thirst to a drought

The choices you make,
between hating and forgiving,
can become the story of your life*.

Soft as silver and just as bright,
the waters glowed briefly but brightly in the night
A lone child sat by the river,
body pressed still, barely suppressing a shiver.
Clothing too thin on a body too frail,
cold winds and winter tidings turned his skin ghastly pale.
The waters flew gently on a bird's hidden wing
- flying downstream as moonlight off the surface would sing.
Silent and unbidden save for the gentle flow of the spring,
The dark forest a mystery, foreshadowing a tomb.
The lily still, was the only thing left in bloom.
Amid a forest of bare trees and darkness, it stood a lone sentinel against the gloom
Delicately nestled in a thicket of thorns.
It stood alone against winter's arsenal of storms.

"I'm so complicated!"
he said, exasperated.
But really,
he was too young
to understand himself.