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Debt-free
The mute button doesn’t work anymore. A moment’s silence is worth more than gold. Interest compounds it into the solemn roar of the golden sun, arcing across an unsettled October mind. I languish as clouds cover her payment to me. The moments do...
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Just Telling It Like It Is
I never had children.Strange, then, that I care about your kids more than you do.  I never owned real estate.No one truly owns land.But we should try to make ourselves worthy of it.So few do.  All I own doesn’t even requirea small...
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The Only One
The white—momentary, nearly lost in various blue:just a tiny slice of sky.The sun had already set.Smeared blue becoming bluer and bluer,then purple, then sleepy purple, then black.But that momentary white!Changing sky. I was the only one to see ...
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Imagination
What does the sky hold that the space between my ears can’t?Bark sloughs off the tree, and grass grows beneath it,and flowers attract bees.Work is force times acceleration. When the book closes,only darkness reads its pages.When I close my eyes ...
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Gravity | Poetry
While in a distance,         —though, admittedly, not fearfully—I toured and toured—not fitfully—while considering, fruitlessly, a mind full of gravity. Or gravitas.Where was I, after all?The spaces t...
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Inexpensive | Poetry
~~*~~I renounce Colorado, and Fort Collins, where I was raised.I renounce both utterly.I tell folks now my hometown is Imperial Beach, California.Because that is where my true life started.~~*~~Hours after a windfall and a tree’s rustling leaves,a pa...
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Greatness | Poetry
Too often the “great” are called so out of the cesspool’s need and no other reason.How they got that way isn’t questioned. To the cesspool, “great” is amoral. It is nothingmore than one’s seismic significance to the subsurface turds. A great good and...
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Bricks | Poetry
Simply playing with my bricksmakes no sense to me.You insist that walking on themwill scuff your shoes,and that if I understood your needsI wouldn't push you. You refuse to look at my sunshine,complaining that it hurts your eyes,that my sunrises...
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Renewed | Poetry
She presses against me.The small of her back is a question mark.Clothing between my hands and her soft skin.A fetish renewed.A dream realized.She has no idea—which is how it should be.She has no idea; and I have lime desire—desire against hers, desir...
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The Quiet | Poetry
Beneath the chatter of these twisting, spastic days ...beneath the toxic tweetsand the monstrous resharesthe blaring memesand the naked revelationsmultiplied by millionsas people reveal who they truly are,what they are truly made of,the slow, thick s...
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There Is A Light | Poetry
There is a light—steady, unwavering, real.Beyond real.Greater than.Does it matter what I call it?Does if matter if I call it anything at all?It is always there—even when I can't see it.Or maybe I should say:even when my soul can't see it. There ...
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