My Boy

Coming home is the hardest part
I always used to look forward to walking through the door
hearing the thud of his tail on the floor
Seeing his face light up when he saw mine
almost as if he was waiting by the door the whole time

Leaving home is the hardest part
I miss my goodbye kisses
I miss the old man's antics
The way he would roll over on his back
his toy in his mouth
radiating happiness
The way he would talk to you when he barked
I could talk to him about anything
He would always listen
Yes, I will miss that old fart
Never thought I'd say it
but I'm even going to miss his farts...

Being at home is the hardest part
He could barely get up or walk toward the end
but I'll be damned if he didn't follow me around every room
everywhere I went
inside or outside, rain or shine
He was my light & my shadow for 14 years
Being at home is the hardest part
Home was wherever I was with him

* * * * *

Even the great ones have to go
I know, some will say, "He was just a dog"
but Buddy was so much more than that to me
Growing up, he was like the brother I never had
As we both got older, he was like my child
I was a proud dad, still am

That dog made me a better man
He taught me a lot about unconditional love & loyalty
About never growing up
never giving up on the life you love
He fought time until the very end
seemingly ignoring the arthritis & nerve damage that wrecked his hips
Simply not paying attention to the congestive heart failure
All he cared about was fetching the ball in the yard
or bringing back the stick in the water
All he cared about was pleasing his family, his best friend
That feeling was mutual
I would do anything for that guy
He probably would've lived for me forever
pretended like he was fine
But I knew he was hurting
& I couldn't stand to see him suffer any longer
The hardest thing I've ever done was say goodbye

* * * * *

I laid down beside him on the floor at the vet's
& I could start to feel the anesthetic take effect
I looked in his eyes & remembered how he would always look at me
always watching out, making sure I was taken care of
I rubbed behind his ears & remembered how scared he would get
every time he heard the vacuum turn on
He was the biggest scaredy cat
He was even scared of cats
I scratched his stomach & remembered the time
when he jumped up on the kitchen counter
& ate a whole family-sized Hawaiian pizza from Papa Murphy's
Needless to say, he slept in the garage that night
I'm still impressed... can't believe he did that
My hand moved down his back, then along his tail
I massaged his bony hind legs
He sure did log a lot of miles on those things
He was just as competitive as I am
We both took our playing very seriously
We'd be out in the backyard for hours
me hitting the baseball & him bringing it back
That guy was an athlete
He could literally catch anything
The best hand-eye...
I mean, mouth-eye coordination
I've ever seen

All these memories came flooding back to me
& it was about then that I leaned down & hugged him
hanging on for dear life
It was about then that the vet took off her stethoscope
"He's gone"

* * * * *

The memories of him slid down my cheeks for weeks
It took awhile
but now I look back, think of him
& smile
They are happy tears now
I found solace the moment I realized he lived a long, happy life
I knew he knew that he was loved

He was a special soul
He was a blast when he was younger
& just as much fun when he was old
His happy-go-lucky, fun-loving, playful personality
captured the hearts of everyone who ever met him
He always put a smile on my face
no matter what was going on in life
no matter what anxieties or burdens dominated my mind
no matter what was on my plate

He was a one-of-a-kind kind of guy
Looking back, there were times in my life
that I simply wouldn't have made it
if not for him always by my side
Looking back, I can honestly say
that I needed him as much as he needed me

* * * * *

Rest in peace, my Buddy boy
I'll never forget all that you did for me
I'll always cherish the memories
You were a blessing & my best friend

A Drop in the Ocean

The ride up was arduous -
a royal (& literal) pain in the ass.
His legs & lungs burned,
gravity & momentum worked against him...
But he kept his head down,
kept pedaling, one breath at a time,
& he eventually reached the apex of his efforts,
the summit of his struggles.

A break in the trees revealed a sparkling sea beyond the bluff.
The reflecting sunshine gleamed in his eyes
as he looked out at a sailboat journeying onward,
toward a horizon of infinite possibility.

* * * * *

The bike ride up was daunting & exhausting,
but the struggle was worth the view from the top.
The immensity of the sea
shrunk all of his worries & problems
down to actual size.
Once he took the time to reflect & respect the summit he had climbed,
once he realized how small his place was in this brutal,
yet beautiful world,
& that we're all in this together...
it was all downhill from there. 

iAdmit

I turn into Gollum when I can't find my phone.

"Where is it? 

Where has it gone? 

The precious is lost!"

I get freaky like Frodo.

Seriously, I'm only half kidding.

It's pathetic how powerless I am 

when my phone is out of my sight.

A panic comes over me when it isn't in my hand, 

in my pocket or on my nightstand.

I can barely think,

can barely breathe.

It's even more ridiculous how relieved I am 

when I eventually find it. 

It's pitiful how powerful 

this device's vise is on my mind.

It reminds me to think sometimes, 

then causes me not to.

I rely on my phone to make me invisible

in waiting rooms & on buses. 

(Isn't it ironic how a device with so many connecting capabilities

can inevitably leave one feeling so disconnected?) 

I'm attached;

without it, I'm lacking, I feel naked.

This is definitely an obsession I must confront. 

If I don't establish some degree of moderation, 

I honestly believe this touch screen will leave me out of touch with reality. 

I'll be blind to the world beyond my news feed 

& deaf to the people within my vicinity. 

But, you know, I can't lie...

I know I can't let it go.

I know what must be done,

but I also know this battle of dependency will never truly be won. 

I must confront this obsession of mine... at some point in time.

The words of a procrastinating prophet always ring true.

- Sent from my iPhone 

Yard Work

I often get reflective when thinking about perspective... 

They say the grass is always greener on the other side.

What the clichés don't say, though,

is that the grass on your side wouldn't be so damn brown

if you just took the time to water it.

The best way to get what you want 

is to put in the effort

& to care about what you already have.

I often get reflective when thinking about perspective...

Reminiscing over resurfacing memories,

feelings or emotions I neglected 

& pushed aside at the time when they occurred...

I've learned that materialistic tendencies 

& extreme objectivity,

can skew our view of reality, 

can blind us to what really matters.

Yes, I often get too reflective when I overthink perspective...

Like an over corrective detective,

desperately searching for the most effective,

least subjective method.

But who am I kidding?

It's not complicated.

It isn't a mystery.

Sometimes it's easiest

to just love,

to just live.

Simplicity really is the key

when putting it all into perspective.

Lost & Found

Last night started off like any other night. It was about 6 o'clock in the evening, & my grandparents & I took our dogs for a ride up in the Blue Mountains. It's something of a tradition of ours, to escape humanity for awhile & drive around the wilderness. Everything was going according to plan - that is, until we stopped to let the dogs out. Brendy (dog on the left of the photo) took off after a deer & disappeared into a valley. She was gone, just like that. After calling her name & looking for her for over 3 hours, we started to lose hope. Grandpa tied his shirt up to a tree so she had something to come back to, & we made our way back home, empty handed. I'll never forget that car ride. None of us said anything the whole way home, we just cried. We all somehow felt responsible for what had happened.
When we got back home Grandpa & I were out in the garage, sitting there in stunned silence. We agreed that we would go back up there early in the morning. But after about 10 seconds, the guilt became too much for me to take.
"What the hell are we doing?"
Grandpa stood up & understood exactly what I meant.
"You're right," he said. "Let's go."
We went in the house & Grandma was already packing stuff up for us. Somehow she knew we were going back up there. Somehow she always knows.
"I'll stay here with Buddy (my old yellow lab in the photo)," she said. "You two be careful."
So off we went, driving into the darkness, both of us not knowing what to expect. As we drove up the mountain the only thing we could hear was our own voices echoing in the distance.
"Brendy!" Grandpa yelled. "Brendy Lou, get back he-..." He broke down. "Goddammit, Alex, why did this have to happen?" he asked between sobs. "How did we let this happen?"
"Don't lose hope yet, Grandpa," I said, although I was thinking something entirely different.
At about that time some deer ran across the road in front of us. I stopped the truck, afraid there were more coming. I looked up the road & saw a pair of eyes reflecting off the headlights. The eyes were running toward the truck. That's not a deer, I thought to myself. Is it a cougar? A bear? My heart began to pound in my chest.
Then she came into view.
"It's Brendy! Grandpa, it's Brendy!"
I got out of the truck & she slowly made her way toward me, seemingly not believing what she was seeing. Neither was I. It was like looking at a ghost. I opened up the back door of the truck & without a moment's hesitation she jumped in. She crawled up to the front seat & began licking my face. Grandpa hugged her & I didn't think he was going to ever let go. Tears ran down his face, this time the happy kind.
"Let's get you home, girl," he said. "I can't wait to see the look on Grandma's face."

* * * * *

We found her (she found us, really) at 1:30 AM only about 100 feet away from where Grandpa left his shirt. I still can't believe we got her back.
I learned a lot last night about fear, regret, & guilt, among other things. But most importantly, I realized the power of never giving up hope.

Hollow Masks

sacrificing self-acceptance

for petty public attention

consistently lying to yourself

                         by the guilt

weighed down

it's like borrowing character

from somebody else

those loans won't help

we always end up paying

for all the facades we build

A Walk With Fate

She sat, darkness dousing the sound of her own pounding guilt.
The devouring sound came from a wound within -- a wounded womb.
She swam from day to day by way of her tears.
In all of her 18 years alive, she had never felt so dead.
The hollowed hope in her head, though, kept her afloat.
Some symptoms still surfaced... what would be the odds?
The doctor came back with the test results.
"My God... "

* * * * * * *


There was a warm breeze at our backs as we trekked up the trail.

I'll never forget how the Tri-Cities looked underneath that summer sunset.

(Sure, the desert can sometimes be an ugly place

But the beauty is surely there if you look for it.)

The words came easy between me & my mom on that fateful hike.

Eventually she asked if I was happy where I was at,

& I told her that I thought I belonged.

Then she suddenly stopped walking, I stopped talking.

She looked me right in the eye & said,

"It's time you knew...

I had an abortion when I was pregnant with you.

& yet, there you were!
& here you are.

You are meant to be here.
So wherever you are, that's where you're supposed to be.

Trust me."

I would be pretending if I said that conversation didn't change me.
At first, honestly, I was angry.

Then it became clear to me, it all made sense.
Hearing about the abortion that should've eliminated my existence
somehow cleared my conscience.

I'm thankful just to be here

& to grow old with all my kindred souls on this world.
It's true what they say, you know:
blessings are often disguised as burdens.

I am meant to be here
& I refuse to live in fear.

It's my time to make the most of my time.

It's my time to be myself: someone no one has ever been.

Rippling Effect

I recently told a friend 

I'd never like a song with that word in it ever again

But I quickly accepted defeat

Kept nodding my head to the repeating beats...

There was once a time when we were simply seeking peace

We were seemingly making progress in the process of deleting it

But now we're writing it in permanent ink

So we can see the words

Again & aggin

Now we're just going sdrawkcab

How did we let this happen?

Over the years tears & blood have been spent

Now it's a term of endearment

"Only WE can say it"

Despite all the pain

The double standards still remain

What a shame...

I did a little experiment to back up this vent

I heard it 75 times in Magna Carta*

Hidden, intertwined in Jay Z's rhymes

That got me thinking...

What about Biggie?

& Jeezy?

& Weezy?

& you can't forget Yeezus

Their choice of words has an impact on us

In all their fan's minds that word is just fine

I realized I was one of them

Rehearsing their verses

Again & aggin

Why is it so intriguing?

Maybe it's just me

But it seems like the same people who're angry it's still here

Are the ones who're actually keeping it relevant

It's pathetic how accustomed we are to these racial epithets

America, we've been conned

The entertainment industry has altered history

"Nigga" is now an accepted part of our lexicon


* Magna Carta is Jay Z's 12th studio album. To this date, 1,060,000 copies have been sold in the United States.  

FriENDship

She was my first kiss, I’ll never forget

We were playing house out in the woods with the other kids

She was “Mom,” I was “Dad”

It was the best acceptable excuse we had

We were only seven,

but even then, there was an inevitable attraction

Some of us are simply bound on a collision course with one another

I moved away in the 4^th grade, but our friendship remained

Seems like the hardships only brought us closer

I remember coming back for the funeral

We cried & cried & cried & cried

I remember wiping the tears off her face when her dad died

An accidental suicide

I remember hugging her & not wanting to let go

I remember thinking things wouldn’t quite be the same after that day

& they never were

Next thing we knew, we weren’t kids anymore

High school graduation

That last true summer vacation

I moved back to Dayton

& we both started a harvest job with the Grain Growers

If only we had known then what was in store…

“I know this sounds crazy, but I think we should start dating”

“Oh please, you’re like my sister”

“Don’t say that, you know we’re supposed to be together”

& on it went

On & off & on, again & again, consistent as sin

I should’ve never listened to her

The famously dangerous drug also known as lust

Sure crept up on us

Me, especially

There’s obviously a certain trust that comes with intimacy

What we conceal, then reveal

Tell someone how we really feel

Believe me, I know that

But apparently I was too blind to see clearly that August night

I don’t know why I allowed myself to be sucked in

The self-imposed pressure to impress everybody

Only compressed me down into a nobody

Into somebody who only thought of himself

Someone who disregarded the respect she deserved

The respect that she neglected herself of

I made it my life’s mission to make hers brighter

& yet I eventually provided the lighter

Only made the flames burn higher & higher

The smallest spark can start a fire

Words, actions that can’t be taken back

The ones that connect our past with the present

& change the future

I should’ve never said that

I should’ve never done that behind your back

But I did

& I’ve had to live with it ever since

From the beginning, seemingly until the end…

But then, just like that, & forever was over

She was gone

I’ll never forgive myself for what I did

I’ve held this in for far too long

I sure do miss my friend

I'm No Nomad

Author's note: I recently moved to a new town. A lot of thoughts have been going through my head since I've gotten here. Here a few of them.

Earlier today I went downtown,

found a bench, sat down, looked around,

& realized I didn't know anyone.

I'm a stranger, surrounded by strangers, in this strange land.

I scurried home not long after that thought crossed my mind,

my tail tucked between my legs. 

Seemingly on a whim

I find myself in this little town called Sequim. 

It'll surely take a while to get used to this place.

* * * * * * *

A map of the Puget Sound is on the wall of my new room.

My hometown is completely out of sight,

on the opposite side of the state...

The smell of the once distant ocean drifts through the window.

Fear of the unknown comes in waves, some stronger than others.

A barge makes its presence known in the night.

The horn blast reverberates atop the water, the sand,

& then echoes across the land on which I know reside. 

There's no denying: I was scared to come here. 

I'm a stick in the mud, a creature of habit -

Change just isn't my thing. 

& yet change is everything.
Change is the only constant.

How can we grow without letting go of our fears?

With that said, I can't lie (believe me, I've tried),

my confidence doesn't travel well.

Hell, it often runs dry.

Over my 22 years, I've relied on others to remind me who I am.

I will miss those friends more than anything...

But this isn't goodbye, it's only "til next time."

Thanks to them, I don't have to begin again.

I'm beyond fortunate; I really do have it made.

I may now be in a different place,

but it's still the same face looking back at me in the mirror.

This move has made one thing clear:

This house may or may not become my home,

but I, alone, must become my own comfort zone.

Happiness derives from within.

Update (Forever) in Progress

He sat there,

spinning around in a swivel chair,

frustrated by it all.

His laptop was on the smooth oak counter in front of him.

The system update was progressing rather slowly…

- - - 25% complete - - -

He began to explore the Web while waiting,

quickly becoming entangled.

He signed into Facebook to take a look

at the girls who habitually post pictures –

not believing in their beauty until receiving at least 15 likes,
their confidence depending on the comments. 

He scrolled down through the plagiarized quotes,

the list of borrowed song lyrics – copied & pasted.

What’s the point?

To pretend that you have it figured out more than most?

To make people think on the other side of their screens,

“Hey, yes! By God, that’s it! He’s found it!”

The meaning of life in a post.

- - - 50% complete - - -

 How confusing…

He signed out, began perusing through the links,

looking for his calling,

the dream,

the scheme,

the means

in which he would make all of his money.

How about a firefighter?

A liar A lawyer?

Or what about a psychologist?

He began to lose himself in the lists

somebody else had devised for him.

He took a personality test so someone else could tell him.

INFJ, it said.

“Oh, that was easy.

Wait… what does that even mean?”

- - - 75% complete - - -

& the search continues…

He gave up, put his headphones on,

put his head in his hands in defeat.

Next thing, he woke up,

not quite sure how long he’d seemingly been asleep.

He looked up to find that the laptop was off,

the update undoubtedly complete.

His reflection was looking back at him in the now black & empty screen.

They stared at each other for a while, analyzing, smiling.

His grandmother opened up the door, startling them.

He paused the song in his head.

“There you are,” she said. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Why, yes, here I am.

I guess I’ve been here all along.”

- - - 1∞%  - - -

Harmonious

If you think about it,

sharing music with someone else

really means a lot.

Whether we're willingly able to admit it or not,

we seek outside advice

about how to best live our lives.

Music is a convenient,

entertaining, communication medium

that allows us to hear the rhythm

other people live their lives to.

As a result we're allowed to reflect,

& consequently edit,

our own flow.

We listen to music the most when we're together

& when we're alone.

We listen to music when we're allowed

to freely sing as shitty as we please,

when we're allowed to dance

as embarrassingly as we deem fit.

We listen to music so we don't have to pretend.

Our favorite tune is our favorite

because it helps us relate,

helps us feel real & genuine.

When somebody else shares their music with you

they're voluntarily and vulnerably revealing

a piece of their personality.

To me, that's the embodiment of friendship.

Such is the Flux

Magazine covers with the beauty queens on ‘em

Always end up in the trash

Trendy fashions transform into fads

Nothing lasts

Yeah, we can’t have the good without the bad

No, we can’t be happy without first being sad

Hide your wounded pride inside

Ride those tides

Don’t forget to smile every once in a while

Even though it always seems

Like we’re rolling smoothly

Right into a rut

But, such is the flux of life

Before you start to worry

Please promise me that you’ll see

The opportunity

In every difficulty

When pressure is pushing you down

Just know it’ll come back around

In the meantime…

Hide your wounded pride inside

Ride those tides

Don’t forget to smile every once in a while

Even though it always seems

Like we’re rolling smoothly

Right into a rut

But, such is the flux of life

Such is the flux of life

Endure the downs

Appreciate the ups

Every peak has two valleys

Endure the downs

Appreciate the ups

Every peak has two valleys

A mind devoted to negativity

Is blind to the ubiquitous beauties of reality

Don’t forget to smile every once in a while

Don’t forget to smile every once in a while

Even though it always seems

Like we’re rolling smoothly

Right into a rut

But everything will be all right

Such is the flux of life

I Love My Mom

I love you more than words can say

But I guess I can try anyway...

I look to you when I'm happy

I listen to you when I'm bitter

You make it even better

& you make it all seem not so bad

I can't help but smile

At all the good times we've had

It hasn't all been good, though...

During those trying times

When sorrow

Overpowered the prospects of tomorrow

I won't lie

I had to borrow some of your courage

You've taught me patience

& endurance

I've become stronger

Through your words of encouragement

Even though I outweigh you now

(practically twofold)

You're still the strongest person I know

I know, I've already said that you're the embodiment of good character

But I have to say it again

Because I will be forever grateful

For I am most fortunate

To have innately adopted

Even a few of your characteristics

No matter what way I look at it

Despite all of my new perspectives

I'll never have to swallow my pride

To say that you're the most important person in my life

Mom, it's an absolute privilege to be your son

Grandma 1 & 2

Even in the arms of her groom

Her eyes rested on the most attractive woman in the room

You see, conformity forced her to be the same

To live up to her name

Society said that success for a woman

Was determined by a ring & children

So she listened

She ignored the innate instinct within

She said “I do,” three times, had two kids

Of course, living a lie

She was never truly satisfied

Used, abused

She was losing herself

One day, she gathered up enough strength to walk away

She knew she couldn’t hide her true self anymore

So she decided to see what she was all about

Came out

& welcomed what the future had in store

Always working so damn hard just to blend in

She went on vacation

That was when they met

A remarkable relationship ensued as a result of that cruise

Her happiness began when she accepted her sexuality

Her happiness began when she met Patsy

* * * * * * *

I was seven when I realized my grandma was a lesbian

That friendly woman who was always with her

Was more than just a friend

Some wanted our bond to end

Wanted to keep me away because they were gay

“He doesn’t need to be in that environment”

“It’ll poison his mind, their life is a sin”

What toxic logic, to discriminate because of a harmless difference

Ironic how religion preaches love, but breeds hate

Thankfully my mom knew better than to let me grow up without them

Grandma Sue taught me to always look within

She’s wise, yet has the personality of a rebel

By watching her I learned how to listen

Her love for others, simply admirable

Patsy showed me the importance of curiosity

I sure discovered a lot on those treasure hunt walks

I called the things we found "clues"

I still do

Her dedication will always be an inspiration to me

There will always be opposition in regard to this predisposition

But, popular opinion is finally catching up with morality

At least in this sense

I mean, it only makes sense

To let people be who they were meant to be

& to let them legally love

whoever they want to be with forever

* * * * * * *

Earlier today, I heard her say

“You’ve always been my Cubman

Now I want you to be my ring bearer”

20 years after their serendipitous beginning

There will be a wedding

They’re still deciding on a date, but I couldn't wait

I had to write about it

Despite all that has tried to convince them otherwise

Their love has thrived

Grandma Sue, Patsy

Grandma 1, Grandma 2

I am so, so proud of you

From Father to Son

I was five when I heard those gunshots

echo across town

It was a hot night, July of ‘96

I was cuddled up with Mom

The bedroom window was open

She was singing me to sleep

It was such a peaceful song

I remember how she flinched

In an instant

I knew

She knew

That a part of both of our lives

was gone

* * * * * * *

Let me tell you a tale

About a guy who died too damn young

I’ve heard he could’ve been a standup comedian

Man, how I’ve lived with his demons…

The man I remember

is a memory I want to forget

That thunderous knock on the door

“Let me in! I just want to see my son!”

The welling tears in her eyes, my mom

Telling me to hide

He was only twenty-five

I don’t remember much

I meet him through their stories

Apparently, he was everyone’s friend

People gravitated toward him

Ironic

that he was the only one

Who brought himself down

Ironic

that he brought others up

But practically put himself in the ground

My dad met his end because of $200 worth of meth

I know the name of the man who shot him

I know they still haven’t caught him

* * * * * * *

I’ve met a lot of the people he was close with

It’s the same thing, every time

They gasp when I walk in the room

Sometimes even begin to cry

Sometimes I cry without even knowing why

It took me awhile to see

I have such a hard time missing him

Because he still walks with me

He still talks to me

My angel tells me to confront my demons

Tells me to be different

This time I'm listening

Shards of What Was

Through the wall he could hear the contained, clangorous sound of his sister vomiting into a pan;

through the window, he could hear his dad’s truck peel out the driveway & on down the cul-de-sac.

She cried herself sick; he left.

The sounds entered through different ears & collided in his brain with such force

that an explosion of frustration overtook him in the form of clenched fists & teeth.

The remnants of the blast was evident in his emerald eyes

as he sat in the chair at his desk, alone.

He wanted to move away from it all,

but he knew that wouldn’t help anything.

No, nothing can help when help is not wanted.

“Is she okay?” he asked his mother.

“She’ll be all right. Did he leave?”

“What does it matter? The damage has been done.”

He was wrong.

* * * * * * *

She tended her frantic daughter, calmed her, then retired to her bed.

She looked at the pictures on the walls of a once-shared room.

* * * * * * *

He returned to his desk, put his head in his hands.

Moments later, another explosion:

this one was outside of his head.

He pushed away from the desk, ran toward his mother,

but he was too late.

Shattered glass covered the beige carpet in a thin layer,

like virgin snow on an unsuspecting desert.

Tears & blood mixed in with the shards.

She was not herself.

Rage poured out in stuttering breaths.

Blood trickled down her arms,

the trails coiling around like a double helix.

The images and memories were woven into her being, her DNA.

She did not want them there.

For a few moments she sat cross-legged atop her own destruction,

head bobbing with the sobbing.

She then took notice of the blood,

took notice of her son standing in the doorway.

The memories had been painfully removed from their frames,

from their glass borders.

Maybe now she will finally let them go.

“Clean this up, I’ll get some band aids,” was all he could utter.

On his way out the house, he shut his sister’s door,

sheltering her from the images of her own home.

* * * * * * *

The ending of an end is just another beginning.

Our Time

How rude it is to keep beauty waiting

I guess I’m hesitant to get lost in amazing

* * * * * * *

It seems strange, this waiting game

I know you will change me

and I know it will be for the better

I shouldn’t be afraid of progress

I shouldn’t overthink

something, someone

that is permanently imprinted

into my thought process

These thoughts and feelings

will eventually evolve into actions

I’ve become complacent in my patience, though

and I guess the answer to this lovely riddle

is a question:

What are we waiting for?

It’s time we realized it’s our time.

An Unusual Acquaintance

On a highway day drive in April, I befriended a June bug

We got off to a tumultuous beginning

I flicked him out the driver window, but he stuck around for the ride

I tested him, he responded, I respected

He calmly clung to the rearview mirror

And we began to reveal a bit about our pasts

He said his kind gets a bad rap, are considered pests

But they didn't seem that bad to me

He said he had a bad batch with his woman, needed a new start

“I’m glad you’re headed elsewhere” he said

“Because that’s exactly where I’m headed”

He mentioned something about the ubiquitous eyes above
Something about the crows grubbing on his grubs

He told me his woman didn’t trust him anymore

She said he could no longer protect

“How can I fend off a crow?” he helplessly wondered aloud
“It’s beyond my control”

“It’s beyond your control”

He told me his name was Jim

Jim the June bug, has quite the jingle

We easily kept the conversation moving along for a bit

He was a quick witted little fellow
I wished we could have more time
But “I only have a year to live,” he said 

“I don’t have time to waste any of mine”

He reminded me of the beauty of sometimes winging it

We went along for a while – at least a mile – in silence

The comfortable kind, though

The kind only two true friends could enjoy

“Well,” he said
"This is the end"
"I guess I'll be going"

I wished him the best of luck
He did the same to me

With a flick of his wings he was gone
Now I don't know if he gracefully caught a draft
Or if he crashed his ass right into the pavement
Ether way, Glenn H. Curtiss* would be proud

Come to think of it, I was proud of him, too

I hoped his new start was the right one
In a place where the grass is green
The lady bugs are pretty

And the crows, a little less dense

* * * * * * *

*Curtiss' "Flight of the June Bug" in 1908 was the first pre-announced flight in America. 

This College Town

I see movement,

living in this college town

People coming home, going,

people trying to get out

We’re all here to go somewhere else,

persevering the present to propel our futures

Ubiquitous buses roar across town,

filling the silence of day,

protruding the silence of night

Silence is such a profound sound

Living in a college town,

introductions go amiss

First impressions are so very valuable in this land of strangers

Silence is such a profound sound,

especially when it follows such a simple question

“What’s your name again?”

“. . . uhm . . .

. . . uhm . . .

. . . . . . . . . .”

Living in a college town,

I don’t feel the same

when I can’t even say my own name

It’s easy to lose yourself in the campus crowds

Straight A’s fail to sway my dismay

Success will never be

enough to make up for the faults

These are the words of a pessimistic perfectionist

These are the words of a stuttering perfectionist

Today, though, as I look out the bay windows,

I realize all the negativity is just me

You find out a lot about yourself – through success, through failure –

living in this college town

Here, you have to get on a bus to go anywhere,

and you have to step outside

your comfort zone to hitch a ride

I will reach my destination

When I do, I won’t need to say my name –

everyone who I want to know will already know it

When you feel as if you’ve lost your way,

press replay, because you’ve done it all before

And you can do it again

Listen to the voice within

Learn from who you’ve been

Fight hard for who you want to become

This starts for me right here, right now,

in this college town