Wednesday, March 12, 2014


Bad news comes on beautiful days
when the sun is kissing your cheek
and the old man on the floor
says you have a beautiful smile
though you have nothing to give him.
The news trickles in like the single ant on your bare foot.
It is almost always invisible
existing only in your blind spots
so that you have to listen closely to the words of others-
the prophets who whisper the news or slide it under your door.
They say that bad news comes with good news.
It comes with the mundane-
mixes in with heartbreak and regrets you’ve long misplaced
It comes with euphoria-
when your body feels like the air that you breathe.
Bad news is good news.
It is wake up calls,
life and death,
everything and nothing at once.
It is freedom and the slow but steady beating of your heart.

Friday, February 14, 2014

3 AM

I heard a barking at 3 AM
as the sun rose in my dream
soft but loud
like the humming of the television show we fell asleep to.

I heard a barking at 3 AM
It was hard and sharp
and the dogs bared their teeth to me-
a warning of something dangerous and sacred to come.

I heard a barking at 3 AM
felt something cold and wet on my face
like a thousand dogs waking me from my deep slumber
or the rain seeping through the ceiling we never fixed.

And the barking at 3 AM never stops
even as I toss and turn or wrap my leg around yours.

When I awake and you kiss the soft wetness off my face
I can't tell if that something is coming or going or already there watching us sleep.