Monthly Archives: November 2017

London @ Dalston Victoria 11/29/17 #poetry

Scars on my shower curtain
Scissors on my socks
Mustard on my mayonnaise
Tiny pieces of glass in every bite

All the little things I love
All the little names for the dog
Poopsy, Mr. Funny Word
I took the black horse road
I fell a sleep in th bakers arms

Pidgeons in the Pancras
Perfectly in step with love
The precision of feeding birds
The endless spray of cooing and cocking

Palm trees on th streets of London
The burning mowers of dreams
Their prickly skin howls
Like a million open mouths

The repetition is never repetitive
The hot needle enters smoother
But we share the air around us
Talk listen talk
Never breathe the same way twice

Oldenburg @ Wagonburg 11/25/17 #poetry

Behind every man is a man
But not every man is behind each man
Behind every man is a man talking
About himself
To a man who is not listening

They make a lot of wind
Burn a lot of wood
Buy a lot of beer
They eat the meat right from the bone
And then they write the story

I keep wanting to compare the trees to hair
On the big brain planet
Keep wanting to compare
Things to other things
Things I think I know better.
A better way to understand
The things that I know less about.
Is it natural?
Does a deer see the tree in a building?

The blue lake is not really blue.
It is a kind of blue
The kind that fills a trumpet
The blue of missing new friends
For the first time.
The blue inside the fire
That cannot live far from
The source
But leaves a mark
That never leaves the air
Becomes new the new air

Bremen @ Spedition 11/24/17 #poetry

Never alone with my thoughts
The rain comes and the rain goes
But Hamburg is not Seattle
The except for the tourists
The graffiti fades into the background
Jesus is the yin for the sexy devil’s yang

I am dating my anxiety
Learning his favorite color
Forgetting his birthday

Life is a Currywurst
You take it one piece at a time.
The sauce hold it together

Fresh faces inspire familiar feelings
I once searched Bremen for
What felt like hours
In search of
A new scarf
Today in 20 minutes
I’ve seen so many
I’m almost tripping over them.

If you’ve got a Deutschmark you can
Play the old video game
In our bedroom
And if you’ve got a dollar
I’ll tell the story of the first show
We played where people danced.
A handful of students in Leipzig
Have sealed my fate.