stupid bosses

"maybe you're tired, or
pissed at something else. i don't
know." but you do. well.

bon jovi!

his smile dawns, rises
to -- maybe from, maybe with --
his eyes, his bright eyes.

forearm stand!

pincha mayura-
sana -- a feathered peackock
on mt. pleasant street.

on the way to georgetown

stumbling into the
woods on our way across town;
tripping out, laughing.

friday

friends and white wine on
a friday afternoon, on
the couch, on the mend.

the week slides towards
its own end, slipping into
friday too slowly.

weeding

digging weeds, scooping
them from mossy, damp dirt; soil
that waits for what's next.

caitlin

the folder flies, spins,
lands, smack, right between the eyes --
let the week begin.

white wine on cille's porch
signals spring's homecoming dance.
this year, i'll be queen!

vidhya flies east;
a friend leaving stretches time,
shrinks space, even seas.

comps

four hours writing, wrists
aching, questions melting one
into another.

march slips in trailing
sunny days, open windows,
breezes and deep breaths.

five mini poems
because the week tread by without
stopping to take note.

ron. argh!

the first place i go
is to assume i'm wrong, while
raging at his nerve.

lunch

today's best: chicken,
avocado, and aru-
gula on whole wheat.

8 stages of development

too much ass so i've
got indonesian infer-
iority com

plex, right? intelli-
gence is good, so eat dirt -- it's
erikson in short.

power ballads swoop
in and sweep me up and spin
me into a smile.

zach's stupid ipod!!!!!!

brandon borrows it,
brandon loses it; brandon
doesn't pay for it?

"this pill," she lectures,
"masks feelings." a doctor, but
she doesn't know pain.

the irony in
this: twelve year old boy interr-
upts to call me rude.

three beers on a pat-
io, two babies on a bench,
one sunday in march.

this sadness seeps and
sizzles, boils and bubbles, sighs
and simmers and aches.

it throbs, pulses be-
hind one eye, sneaks down the neck,
knots in one shoulder.

five haikus in one
sitting, and we're off wonder-
ing what will come next.

yoga

breathing, expand, shift
slightly, settle in to musc-
les, bones, breathing still.

little boys screeching,
a mother who signs "take care",
one tuesday's lowlights.

when silence feels good
but means bad things, what,
then, to do with it?