One more clumsy cellphone message
Bet I’ve left the wrong impression -
Unintended misdirection

And if I’m weirded out, I’m sure
That you’re uncomfortable times four
A date’s not what I’m looking for

Now, to correct should I call back?
Feels like I’m on a sneak attack
To spend some time; it’s time you lack

At least – it seems – where I’m concerned
If there’s one thing I should have learned
Some friendships end, once crushes burned

While the darkness conceals
our first rain in two months
Two cold blocks of small holes -
step in each at least once

And of all of the evenings
to not wear a hat!
Most of nature’s against me,
must remember that

I’m sure that they would like me, too
if somehow I could teach them.

The crazy ones are best because
they sort of pay attention.

Attractive and insane? That’s more
lost hours than I could mention.

Now when I talk to a cute girl
to find out what she’s into…

I’m almost starting to expect
“I’m married, and I’m hindu.”

frustrated my steering
is so unresponsive
and wond’ring how long this could last

i will not shift back into gear,
for that would take too long
i’d rather whine while sitting here
listening to pointless songs

and always changing
stations til
the battery runs dead

distracted, caught
in neutral by
the poisons in my head

My subconscious must be even more
insanely persistent than the
all-six-cylinders part of my brain.
(you’d think by now I’d have it trained)

At least, I thought so. But then,
I also thought we were talking again,
Until it turned out we weren’t. That’s the
thing with not talking, I’ve noticed.

There should be an official grace period
so you know for sure. “Hmm, three weeks.
Guess we’re no longer talking.” Then
you could make a note not to try again.

Of course, I could mark it on
my forehead and still forget –
isn’t it hard to remember when you
repeatedly decide you don’t want to?

And maybe this is admirable,
but it probably is not. A full
inspection would show I do
want you to be happy; no lie.

Except that I want you to
be happy 90 percent out of
selflessness, 10 percent cause
I somehow blame myself if you’re not.

Don’t know where the line falls;
does admitting I’m partly jerk
make my jerk part partly shrink?
I’d go hook, line and kitchen sink

For any scheme that just
resulted in a healthy ‘us’
for long enough so I might see
that you’re ok and I’m not needed.

Must be the thought that maybe you
pick comfort over minor risk
that keeps you in my head.
I, for once, tried risk instead

But there’s the problem
with talking to girls:
Half of every turn we take
is wholly not my own to make.

Doesn’t that completely figure…
As if my hand weren’t already on the trigger
of my own painful or pain-free state
Now I have to decide what hurts bad enough…

What hurts bad enough, and what does not
to make it worth risking another shot
of pain as bad – or worse – later in the week.
Another factor to mull over as I wake up

Every single day and wonder, ”
Will I want to cry by after-
noon?” Did I sleep too little,
too much, or in the wrong position?

At least with drugs you get the high
(or so I’ve heard) before your eyes
Go dim from pain. I should try crack
to keep things interesting

if I’m going to end up feeling nasty anyway.

All the better, I thought,
for the hard rain to finish while I were indoors.
At least my travel west would not be slowed.
As planned, I dressed and left
and, soaked from a mere moment outside,
Tried the office door to find it sealed.
The front room empty, I called it a day
As I ran back to the car.

One brief errand
Through drowned city streets
was nearly one too many.
The potholes hid underwater,
clutching to themselves pools
of grimy rain. Slippery asphalt
and flooded turn lanes
Made me all the more eager to leave.

No reason to change into comfortable clothes -
they would have been drenched in seconds.
I gathered some things into my pack,
then one more run through the falling sky
splashing back to the car before setting out.

The sky remained grey… not dangerous black.
Nonetheless, the rain came
in rotating periods of hard, and harder.

The highway only made things worse,
heavy drops seemed heavier
to travelers moving more rapidly.

I moved slowly, in no hurry
so vital as to find myself wrecked.
Passerby on the left slipped suddenly into
and back out of visibility
as they hurried off towards destinations
so important they were worth the risk
of other travelers’ lives.
Were it not for the scarlet spots of light pressing on ahead of me,
the clouds would have blended seamlessly with the road

When the storm slowed I felt relief,
glad to see clearly
even if the sky was still dark
and my path still hazardous.

Then it struck again,
angry I had praised its departure,
with faster and thicker drops than
I had seen in months – a feat, in the Midwest.
Wipers became stripes of black on a field of grey.

Still fools rushed past,
weaving in and out of traffic
Blink -blink -blink -blink
with their flashers on…
Watch -out -I -suck
I kept right and exited as soon as pavement allowed,
made an unplanned visit to lovely West Jefferson.
Filled at a station where fuel was cheap,
turned back and made for I-70 again

Thrice more the rain struck hard
Once just before my escape from the highway
Twice passing through small towns
And each time it was annoying
but never it did me harm.
By noon, something that resembled sunlight
made its way to my eyes.
By noon, home safe at last.

I need what’s been given
But am reluctant to grasp,
To listen,
To read,
To daily choose.

Don’t need more time,
More convincing;
Just reminders for
A stubborn brain:

Blue behind clouds.
Water running through
Breeze-blown trees
As dirt is hidden
by new growth.

Illumination by fools
doing it wrong,
By friends doing it right.
Clarity in furthest wanderings.
Correction. Foregiveness.

Eight or ten steps from one curb to the next
A short twelve feet further from nothing, at best
And to think, push time backwards twenty steps
I thought we had chances or something

Like the east,
my eyes are heavy
with possibility -
possibilities that are exciting
and ones likely to come true
and others, always empty,

My imagination tries
to pad the spaces
to warm my head
As the sun now warms
the Midwest through
a layer of fraying flannel

Little may still be exciting
when I open my eyes.
The decision to delay
is all it takes to
scatter leftover dreams;
they dissolve like burning clouds

But my mind is not
as sharp as the sun…
all morning I will chase
The fading fog of chances
unrewarded which I did
or did not take.

In clearest day
I’ll fight to fill
these phantom hopes.
Something into nothing,
patience with no time.
To save myself trouble

Not much left is exciting
I’ve looked and have not seen
I’ll squint a while longer,
Since it’s harder to
get out of bed -
but life won’t meet me here

And how they love it.
A city small enough to get drunk
and lost without being shot or stabbed
- but within its limits, thousands of
stupid young men!
They might as well be goddesses
in Greek fairytales

And don’t they know it.
They dress expensive, too
showing off enough to turn our heads
faster than even their cars do
Shredding most hopes that we’ll
ever pay attention in class
or get through a meal at the dining hall
without choking half to death

And they would kill us with their looks,
if they could. They wield this
twisted power like a toy,
making victims of everyone
including themselves, however indifferent
and out of reach they might act.
But there they are, unchanging
and growing slowly cold
tangling their emotions around guys
false as themselves – being vulnerable only
at the very times when they should not

And they have no idea
And still we hang helpless
on their every step and word
equally ignorant of how much time,
thought, misguided emotion
we are wasting.
Thank God for cigarettes
thank God for beer weight
and irritating cell phones
Only with help do we glimpse
shallow girls for what they are.

skkrreeeeeeeeeeeeecccch
Enough with the buses!
pads worn from constant braking
screaming at the pavement as they drag
the noisy monsters to a halt – all too close to the
room where I sleep

assorted ridiculous noises
All day long,
through the night,
and hey, why not some more the next day?
Growling SUVs, speeding Porsches,
those idiotic noisy-mufflered Hondas
pass by in constant succession

One of four busy streets
in a small town
where everyone wants attention
…And leaving the window shut
would result in overheated
air-conditioner-less death
So open it stays, which is great
but for the intersection being
one very small lot away

When I graduate I will go back to the country
after a hopefully brief trip up
the ladder in some city web design firm
I can get used to the noise
I have gotten used to it
unless “used to it” means that
it no longer drives me crazy

Living in town is interesting
because there’s more activity
with people around and stuff going on
But then, i’m boring
and don’t do a lot one way or another
So i’ll take the squirrels, hawks,
and a dozen acres… For now,
I’d give an arm and a leg
(ok, how about fifty bucks a semester)
to live just one block to the north

But with cool air slipping onto my arms
through our gloriously open window,
I exult that winter is finally dead
despite the discomfort in my head
that comes with changing weather

What are aching sinuses,
compared with spring breezes?
The dusty screen also lets in
chattering bird-song, lively and joyful noise
far outweighing painful distractions

So often we take the bad, grudgingly
accepting our world’s imperfection -
and forget that the bad is only
a side effect of a stronger good

Sweat because you feel the sun
Suffer because you can feel
Hurt yourself because you’re
free to do so…But don’t
hate spring because of a stuffy nose

And so it goes with my time. Here’s another day
ended rather uneventfully. Another
evening blows by with homework before bedtime.
I’ll wake up to frosted windows, cold sky, classes.

No two days are the same but they’re all too alike
hurry off, hurry back. Take a break – eat a snack
and off again. Three years almost done; one more left
And then off to hurry at something somewhere else.

What if this were it? Sun and rain, air and classes
tearing past towards… nothing. Money saved for seconds
that will also pass too fast. Hope would be insane!
Bleak as this world is, hope is more real than the wind.

Past wrongs or rights
will always,
for worse or better,
remain.
They may be addressed,
turning even bads good -
but can never be erased

And if restarting were an option
who would benefit?
I for one would likely take
the same wrong turns,
make identical mistakes
without the truth learned
by failing the first time around

Starting over would be a waste anyway
Further waste comes by wishing we could
Go on, or don’t

but enough sad daydreaming

i never did grow up
or maybe i will yet
seems like a full-time job
is what big people get

soon i’ll find employment
shouldn’t i find a wife?
quarter-past already
is my one earthly life

don’t feel grown up the way
i had expected to
at this age i should have
at least a general clue

this school’s a lot bigger
i know the way around
but memorizing streets
can’t mean adulthood’s found

…

nowadays to get home
i cross poplar and main
though it’s rare that things change,
they sure don’t stay the same

Some summer plans are taking shape
Some schemes are looking not so great
Excitement comes with skies less grey
and sunshine sneaking down

Wet grass and mud smell fresh and new
The warmer air’s refreshing, too
A t-shirt and light jacket are
somehow exciting things

Now longer days are creeping in
Beyond a doubt, it’s spring again
Another spring, another try
No, I should not give up

Of a joke that fell flat,
A deep voice that just cracked,
An awkward pause -

Anywhere to go,
Nowhere to hide
One hope, one fear
One thing is clear…
I need to hurry out of here.

I’d pay my last dollar
to remove her indifference.
I’d pay it twice
to buy some of my own.

i had one on saturday that got bad
another on monday felt even worse
a third for today; now i’m getting mad
– it hurts enough i can hardly converse

if i focus just right i can process
thoughts but …the distraction is not enough
if i sit awake now i will want to
die later. time to take pills and give up

i lay down to sleep: rough pain charges in
my brain’s city-walls have been overcome
i fall asleep soon, the caffeine kicks in
…aspirin shows up to a battle soon won