buzzing in my knees

i see the stars, they float, they flicker through the trees...

the traffic swells like the ocean, so at ease.

and i know this. this, wonder for my need.

this growing, growing hope for utter peace...

when windows they slide shut, doors slam close and freeze.

it seals me from the bluster and the breeze.

and i know this. this aching in my knees.

this buzzing, this buzzing that causes me to run... till i'm free

tar the roads

if by chance you have broken my window and stolen my things

then may God bless you. while i curse you. and try not to.

if you're the one who begs me for money in parking lots at night.

may God have mercy on you. and teach me to.

it's too much to have you picking my pockets

while i sweep up broken glass.

i want to punch you between the eyes.

and let you use your lying money

to fix the damage i could do to your nose.

because i sweat. to sleep in a basement.

i have been loaned. to learn what i couldn't otherwise.

i eat one meal a day because i can't afford more.

we should use you to tar the roads and fill potholes.

i am going to sleep well tonight. and i pity you. i am sorry.

because i know things could be worse. but you don't even know better.

both eyes wide.

I have never felt like a visitor in my own home,

nor as lonely in my hometown. until now.

It was never too hard leaving my family for an adventure,

never did it evoke a tear. until now.

I have become an individual for better or worse,

it makes me lonely. I miss home.

I miss the Pennsylvania creeks. the intense green of summer.

I miss knowing my family in the everyday details.

But I realize now that it is not solved by my return.

It makes me feel a bit like a stranger.

I am a different person visiting home environs.

So much of my history is carved in the dirt here.

Though now wheels have been lashed to my feet. and i roll on.

without brakes. over dirt that has hardened.

on toward what is uncertain and inconsistent.

my brakes are my bare hands, knees, and elbows.

no longer is a helmet provided.

I realize that I am the driver praying for traveling mercies,

both eyes wide.

phoenix is a mosaic

i flew over phoenix today. i noticed the houses. the designer neighborhoods, curvy, arching, or spiraling streets, which are distinct to the particular development. each community of cookie cutter houses with with their own shade of roof color. suburbia pieced together by swirling arrangements of squares, like an abstract mosaic framed in desert mountains.

throw ice on the streets to watch it shatter

soon i go home for christmas. its been two years since i've been home for christmas. the older i get the more disinterested i get in our nations most elaborate holiday. its the one time of the year i don't feel very much like a kid. every other day of the year i operate with a very child-like fascination for life. i count down hours till volleyball practice and fishing trips. i stop and look at icicles and throw ice chunks out on the road to watch them shatter. i day dream a lot.

somehow christmas makes me snap out of it. and im not sure why. it seems opposite for most people. at this time of year it seems many take a break from their mature lifestyles to engage childhood traditions. i wonder if it is because since entering college i have never had any surplus cash to buy the gifts that i really wanted to get my family. but is it really a lack of money? children don't mind doing their shopping at the dollar store. i wonder if it has anything to do with the disconnect i feel with the church. but then again most americans don't emphasize the Jesus part of christmas anyway.

so what is it? i wonder. what has caused me to grow up at this time of year and find christmas stale? what has caused me to lose my fascination for religious and pagan tradition? i don't know. but i get to see my family. and i can't wait.

growing dim

you moved your glass to the top shelf

stomach your dinner and disguise the smell

hand me plastic wish me well

offer me your flip flops for my trek to hell

you broke my last few ribs

the ones that keep my skin from caving in

you feed the darkness in my head

the monsters that I tamed you now have bred

now they are wilder than before

and more blood thirsty than their parents were

the lowest thunder is our growl

I begin to stomp my feet and howl

I'm an animal but to no avail

and though I try to love, I always fail

while my hair is fierce my instinct is trim

the hopes I hide are growing dim

I've wandered to far to the west

too close to the setting sun tends to depress

you should feel the choking in my chest

the knotting in my veins may soon be my rest

give me the vision or a healthy bail

this faith seems like an escape for the ill-prepared

and now I'm wilder than before

though no more lost than my parents were

the smoke i breath is foul

I begin to stomp my feet and howl

I'm an animal but to no avail

though I try to love I always fail

while my hair if fierce my instinct is trim

and the hopes I hide are growing dim

the hopes I hide are growing dim

a shopping cart

i found a shopping cart out by the street. i looked to see if anyone was watching, then pushed it down the alley and lifted it inside our back door. it sits in our kitchen now. it makes a good recycle bin, but i think it could be more useful. last night on the eve of my bi-weekly laundry day, i had a revelation. we live less than a block from a local coin laundry. every other week i make a trip hauling an enormous army duffel full of dirty laundry. yet i own a shopping cart...

as i packed my duffel bag full of laundry, i realized that i was avoiding the shopping cart.

it would be easier, to move three large loads on four wheels. but i wouldn't do it. somehow i am embarrassed to push a shopping cart down the street for a block. i feel much cooler when i skateboard to the laundry mat army duffel on my shoulder. i am ashamed of myself.