Shuffling hands

Scrape baking pans

Take out trash

Remove nail polish, waiting,

Bracing the mind of

The body they’re attached to

For a phone call

And the weight of helplessness

In helping the helpless

Feel less


Lemon Wedges

Lemon wedges on 

Sides of plates wait

With fluffy green garnish

On the plain white porcelain

Of chefs’ canvas.

Your eyes 

Are heavy until mine


And we

Have merely met.


Asinine, Asinine
Hidin’, Hidin’
Wakeful in the night and I’m
Hidin’, Hidin’
Look at all the co-lors
Look at all the sha-dows
Feel all the sounds and I’m
Hidin’, Hidin’

Climbing the Stairs in the Dark

I swear, every
Those last three steps,
Climbing and I crawl like a baby up
Lenses or weak footing slows or pauses my
Step up until about the tenth. A panic of unadjusted
The window’s teal beam cannot reach the stairs. I confidently