Some people train for a 5K with a structured plan, tracking splits and heart rate zones. I’m not saying I don’t try that. But I’ve taken it a step furtherâI train with an Australian Shepherd who thinks every run is an Olympic event, a parkour course, and a meet-and-greet all rolled into one. Because I…
Velvet Teeth
The mornings are better without you.I can watch the gray give way to blue,Let light creep in where you reclinedâShaping my expectation,Building anticipation. No aftermath, or hours-long bath,No drowning in your stench.No raw-throated prayersOr mirror-eyed staresAt the wreckage of your wake. Your lips promise warmthâA slow burn, a whispered hush,A debaucherous dive into lust. But…
Distilled Delusions
The bullshit was thick, and I needed a drink.I headed to the cupboard, right on the brink.But when I got thereâmotherfâit was bare!All alone it stood, taunting me, if I dare. âIâm all octane, baby, but check out my label!Iâm great in small doses, though a bit unstable.I pretend Iâm not neutral, flavorless, forgettableâNo, Iâm…
ur no α
You fool.Youâre not apart from the herd;Youâre a part of it.Aftermarket?Still mass-produced.Your individualityAn affectationOf a common ideal.Your skill?Below average.BrashnessMakes you bold and stupid,Not nimble and responsive.Oversized egoAnd undersized bits.Compensation on your window. You pack animal.Oakleys and Skoal.Mountain Dew spit bottle.Commoditized pride(A Chinese export).Begging to be triedSo you fulfill a dream.Pumping gas and a mixOf Morgan…
No Savior
Cowed into silence by a draconian voice,He seethes and bites his tongue.The monsterâs words yield no respect,Only bitter resentment from the young. Belittle and ridicule for amusement,Not for efficiency or order.The dwindling days âtil exodus meansTime for honing a legacy grows shorter. No one wants the beast to die,Just its atrocious behavior.But if fading away…
And Nothing Between
Youâve never heard my childrenâs laughter,Never felt their worrisome trembling.Youâll never pet my dog,Never clean up after her droppings. You wonât feel the wind on the backOf my motorcycle,Wonât know my favorite colorOr why I say itâs so. Our hands will never touch, no more hugs.Our feet wonât share another stride. We couldâve laughed.We couldâve…
The Failures and the Fray
Meager men oozing desperationOver thirst traps and box gaps.They shoot their shot,Blowing their wad.Because words are cheap. Quasi-romanticTo outright lascivious,They run the gamut.Impotent in any event.Aiming to rise above the fray. Bottom feeders frenzyingOver derivative delusions.Proudly proclaiming (unawares)Inevitable incelity.Masquerading as dreamy and steamy men.
Amber Refrain
Nursing himself back to better feelingsWith another amber ale.It drowns last nightâs dull acheAnd the taste of chips gone stale. This glass is unlike the others.This one holds all the keys.A lifetime cradling conventionBeats worn and weathered knees. The fizzy, familiar liftCounterbalances life fallen flat.A final sloppy slurpââhasta mañanaââHe shuffles across the frayed doormat.
Call & Response
Another round of validation, provenDevoid of real reciprocity.The moth-eaten gossamerConcealed not the trap. Muddied waters arenât deepâThey are unmoving and tepid.There may be mystery,But there is no awe. No one slakes their thirst thereExcept in desperation,Because predators lie in waitNear the banks of stagnancy.