Locket Underneath My Bed

my mother found a locket
underneath my bed,
a list of all the stories I have read,
and she was ashamed
to look me in the eye,
although she has her own
hidden locket.
my mother was ashamed
because the locket,
a family heirloom.

A Week in Art VIII

Old figure studies...

But Was It Ever

(Revisiting...)


How many times I stood there
in that doorway
counting the buttons running down your shirt
and the stripes
that run blue to black to white
to blue again.

We never even saw the time passing by.

I never saw past your unkempt hair
just a nod away from letting go
of the two fingers
you always kept in my pocket,
it was somewhere around week five.
but I already carved your name
into the tree outside
for everyone to see,
this is a song I wrote for you
or for them
but it never mattered much anyhow.

And now we lie here,
I don't even know your name
you are breathing
(or is that me?)
but you've not said a word
since that day.