Postage Paid

i want the cute cat
and not the cracked-up pavement 
through the broken woods

Bull-Hearted

like this worn-out dog
i have nearly given up…
yet, i’m a Taurus.

and so i garden
though it, too, is a failure
stolen by flowers

this year’s loss, in pics:
weeds and grass and tearing out 
for one little heart

Kentucky surprise:
shadows, trees, sun, nieces, joy,
progressive murals

don’t assume you know
the beliefs of a red state 
until you’ve been there

with one vacant lot
the clear divide of wealth
(urban devilry)

"bikes for everyone"
is our summer camp motto
(if not, it should be)

what did we just learn?
first, bike vocabulary:
then, real practice

the best from today?
my daughter's helpful patience
(a prospective teacher)

at sixteen years old
learning to ride can be hard
(a kind heart can help)

childhood bullies
prevented her from riding
till my girl taught her

no award for this
no graduation medal
yet, better than gold

surrounded by blooms
(yet the reality kills)
as they slowly die

thank you for the “no.”
as phallic as this lupine
(allium ignored)

i will learn from this
(things i tell myself at night)
and grow a sagebrush

it will bloom purple
(you can’t see my true color)
and you can’t taste it

yet, here it blossoms
as beautiful as the home 
you constantly loathe

i know. i know. i…
you don’t see what i see. stop.
but god. how it hurts.

eighteen years finished 
with this mask that hides us all 
from society

my perfect symbol: 
trying so hard for peaches
even while dying

we'll never escape
the "boot straps" mentality
or fix these numbers