There's a guy I always see
on my morning walks.
Walks leaning left 
on his sideways walker
big NASA looking boots
with buckles and straps
on the ankles and shins
lil bald spot on the back
black hair greasy most days
and when I'm downwind
I can smell his very strong cologne.
A thing that always
makes me want to sneeze.
This dude takes himself around
the block
a dragged foot at a time.
I never quite know how
to approach him when he's ahead of me.
Don't want to freak him out
cause him to fall
so I always call out ahead of time
and he always sort of jumps
and mumbles something back
at my good morning
or buenos dias
and then I feel bad
for being able to walk so easily. 
easy for me.


It's important
to listen
to weird young people's music.
I abhor getting to the corner
where the old lady, Margarita
and her slightly less old neighbor Luigi live
and I have to stop
and hear them say 
how kids aren't raised old school anymore.
I really want to tell them
to fuck off
but what if I need help with a tree
after a hurricane?
I just want to tell them
the youth will eat and bury us
take over the world
make mistakes
cry on our ashes
and on and on.
Don't you see it?
It's 6 o'clock, Margarita and Luigi
where are your parents?


Let us be concise today
for tomorrow
work rides the mule of us:
Breathe in and hope it fills you.
Find something
to make you cry if you need it.
Eat something with a crunch to it
whether it be in the sugar
or the salt.
If today be your sunday
find a way to hold it in.
Spin slowly
the way one does underwater.
Feel the drag on your body and hairs.
Slow time and the bubbles
that find their way
under your pits
into your little folded crooks.
Hear your heart inside you.
Then shut your eyes hard
and let the world take you



The worst thing
about writing every day
is the feeling
that all I do is bitch and moan
and also
that I say this too often
knowing it is not relevatory
but just
part of life.
I am upset and sad
and also tired of feeling
that way.
I put money in my dad's account
and he complains about it
though he also complains about
the cost of things.
I get an extra chocolate chip coffee cake
for my son
and he cries and wines
and says when is it going to stop
when I ask him to do his homework
which makes my girlfriend scream
that why can't there just be no screaming
in this home
and so
when I'm changing out
the light switches
even though I don't want
to get electrocuted
I also think
wouldn't it be nice?


I have an appointment
at the ophthalmologist
and they called
just to tell me
yes they'd be dilating my pupils.
Am I a problem patient
that they had to call
to tell me this?
I don't recall
screaming in the lobby
that I was no longer able
to see clearly
to text, read, tweet, etc.
they're just nice
I think
as I pay my $60
online ahead of time.


My back is so sore
from killing bromeliads
this weekend.
I take my morning walk
and as the police car drives by
I’m sure the cop wonders
where this man
made of broken plastic paint buckets
is going.
I’d been wanting to cut them
for a long time
for the crime of growing
out of their designated space
and killing the grass.
But she denied me.
Yet when painters were coming
for the exterior of the house
she worried for their legs
being cut on the serrated edges
of this devil desert plant.
Maybe I should quit
my job
and go be
a painter.