December
and anyone in the
woods could see the five
idiots on the back deck.

wrapped in blankets
and circled up like
Indians who drink cranberry
Canada Dry ginger ale.

Saturday afternoon
empty house
i wish i felt
different.

sunshine flickering
through the steam between
my fingers and over the
furry blanket.

i've always liked looking
out the back windshield
with swollen eyes at
what i'm leaving behind.

home again and
nothing is different
it's just i've
gotten worse.

and i'm crying
when it hits me
i'm finally
alone.

but i have a
blanket to wrap
myself up in
so everything's fine.

Set sun set
on this tired day
which is yet to
yield quick promise
of new light

Light seeps into
my window in
mornings like an
intruder wearing
steel-toed boots

I can't quite crack
my eyes from their
shutters shuttered
tight as fingers curled
in death grip

Gripping my sheets
I shake the sleep
off my bones to
find a new me
an old me

Barely breathing
of my own volition
until I am reminded
that I must indeed
breathe

Breath of Adam
and Eve or something
in-between it *****
and shivers like
shutters slammed shut

This is nothing new
as the sun will rise
and fall as it has before
and always will or
maybe it will break

Patterns are the
death of will
dying lilies of
too much sun or
too little

Set sun set
on this tired day
of bang and repeat
and give reprieve to
those of us

Left upright

Where the flowers stop
And she begins,
Whence the sunlight beckons
And where it ends...
The dream of Love continues.

what a whopping willow
slinging sunlight
cascading off of falls
like the sea-enriched spray
of another lifeline
anchored in the crease
of a out-reached city
busting restlessly
in spite of the
whopping willow tree

Seems like the time
I searched the sunlight
Seems like the time
I watched the moonlight
My eyes so wide
above the sunset
Seem like the time
I touched the sunlight

Half moon
Half sun
Half river
Full moon
sun rays
blind my sight
Halt, stop
the world is moving
So slow, so slow
this movie

Half tunes
Half dreams
Half heavens
Half real
Half humoured heathens
Halt, stop
the snake is biting
the fangs, the fangs
so drilling

Seems like the time
I searched the sunlight
Seems like the time
I watched the moonlight
My eyes so wide
above the sunset
Seem like the time
I touched the sunlight

I used to see just shadows
painted on concrete.
Scared of seeing sun above;
With whom our forms compete.  

I thought that only shadows
surrounded me before.
Before you painted color
in sunlight, off the floor.

I walked around in trances
evaluating time.
Trying to move forward, empty,
walking a straight line,

Until I felt your fingertips,
Collapsed beneath your shade,
Inhaled the air escaping you,
And watched the daylight fade.

The shadows I believed in
Weren't shadows anymore.
They're pieces of a puzzle
Filled with life and dreams galore.

You show me there is more to this
Than working everyday.
There's moments, seconds, memories
I hope won't go away.

I hope our lips colliding
Will never be routine.
That we will never frown
When smelling racing gasoline.

I wish that late night thoughts
Continue to be said.
That every bit of stubbornness
Stays within your head.

I hope you'll never see the
Ink upon my skin as boring,
That no one else within this world
Will write you notes each morning.

You showed me shadows only are our
footprints on the ground.
You're the one. The only,
With whom my heart is bound.

The poison is in all of us:
Half-smoked cigarettes lay on the side of grainy gravel paths,
crinkly Dollarama bags and glass beer bottles.
We relax on trees
leaning
backs against the braille texture of bark
that tries to speak to us in a language we don’t understand.
We lean back and raise our faces
towards the sunlight dancing between
the leaves of the canopy,
listening to the tires
whizzing against concrete,
but think it similar to the smacking of waves against stones;
lean back and savour the syrupy smell of maple trees
against our tongues,
thinking to ourselves
how grateful we are for nature
as we sit in a paradise of tall trees
their branches intertwined in a space
smaller than bathroom stalls;
lean back and breathe in exhaust
and cigarette smoke masked
behind a layer of sweet antiperspirants
and coconut-scented shampoos
as the wind whips hair against your face.
We take peaceful naps against the undeciphered braille,
but the poison is in all of us
and one day this paradise will become
nothing.
A bed of dirt
blanketed by prickly store-bought
strips of grass.

The hot June sky breathes heavily upon the tree after which I was named, which may shield me from the light of the sun, but not its violent heat or the overburdened air from which I fight each breath, air which assaults the browning grass that gave up long ago when the rains had begun, dampening the ground and the air, and so they remain, and so wildflowers grew with pious fervor oblivious to traffic, and clouds hang with handsome and gracious indifference to the Joshua tree below.

The sun is glowing
shining through
the ways it lays on you
oh baby
I can see it sweeten
the skin
underneath my lips
this kiss
can be breakfast
all I need is you
and that thing you do
the way you play
yea
it makes me think
I'm back in the 60s
this is our summer
baby
and all we got is love.

And that's enough.