Brother Blend

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Coffee, simple coffee

I do not ask for more

Not a finer blend than my nemesis
Nor a larger cup than my neighbor

I can cultivate the fruit on my own
If the sun is not stolen away

I can create a rich roast to crush
If my body is not relegated

Conversations we could have
My brother

Would I pour for you
Would you pour for me

Would we meet for coffee each day

Black White Light

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Where is that storm I summoned
To keep me on my heels
From whom others retreat
As I instead advance

One with fierce energy
That will match intellects
Against all odds draw near
Whose heart I need not fear

Perch

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Flowers
They’ve suffered at my hand
Frost
Did I discount them
Never
I, as would many others
Nurturers
Set them again in the sun
Believing
They would continue
Blooming

And All The People Said

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Let the sounds in — all of them!

Have them ramble around, bouncing off the humidity-coated walls

See which ones bust through stop signs and find rhythm with bird songs

Find which ones look like quiet conviction and calls to action

Then mull about together, dialogue, and make sense of this world with them

Create order from disorder and call it good again

At the end of the day, we must

Into Saturday Night

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I awakened him with a soft exhale
One that was on purpose

Long

The timing of which had nothing to do with anything
Except fate and skin and the sixth-sense that is subconsciousness

And though this was his Sunday
That blessed day of rest
Seemed unnecessary, he said

As we sank back
Into Saturday night

Feverish