Unexpected scenes
July happens to be free
Peace, serenity

Like the victor here
Mighty, strong, and powerful
Slowly, I will be

it is late august and the crows
unperturbed by the heat
  
and relentless in their work
call and cut the heavy air

with so many arrangements
a gentle applause of wind
  
now through the trees
at the edge of day

little landslides of light
nuzzle long shadows

no longer standing above us
it feels good to be surrounded

by strangers

it is all fun and games to be different
to live in the opposite direction

it is all fun and games to be cool
to never be under someone’s protection

but angst hurts when the bullets fall from the sky
and if you wonder how mainstream is so crowded,

now you know why

I love when he naps
in my lap.
His arms folded across
his chest,
long legs almost hanging
off the side of the couch.
There is a painting of
him sleeping that hangs on
the wall of his bedroom,
and it is very accurate.
He’s so sweet,
and sleepy when he
smiles at me and mumbles
“You’re so pretty”
before falling back into
a quiet snore.
I’m more or less trapped here
but that’s okay.
I’ve got my **** and redbull
and him.

The word, defining, muzzles; the drawn line
Ousts mistier peers and thrives, murderous,
In establishments which imagined lines

Can only haunt.  Sturdy as potatoes,
Stones, without conscience, word and line endure,
Given an inch.  Not that they're gross (although

Afterthought often would have them alter
To delicacy, to poise) but that they
Shortchange me continuously:  whether

More or other, they still dissatisfy.
Unpoemed, unpictured, the potato
Bunches its knobby browns on a vastly
Superior page; the blunt stone also.