dirt on the welcome mat

Tag Archives: tired

After the drum beats of severance,

A second where the soft things scream-

Butterfly wings rip from metallic seams,

Crocheted blankets feel the scissor blade,

Breath’s surface blisters into a sigh.


The dark, cold mud
At the pond bottom
Sits between my teeth
And their pink gums,
Sounds sink brown
And water bugs jump.

Please pass the plate
Of frayed orange lifejackets.
I’d like an oar or two
In my sweet tea tonight.
Do you see the light
Bob in the ice cubes

Like the waves
Crashing through my ears,
Sending fish and bait
Flopping, sopping up
A swimming appetite
From my dinner plate?


Buttons spin

On the ceiling-

You’re feeling

A plastic dizziness,

Bleached threads

Dangle their knotted strands

Into each of your ears,

Inching slowly through

The grooves of the brain

And expanding

As your thoughts sweat,

Sending sweater fuzz

Bouncing colorful

Behind bright eyes

Until lids droop

Warm and heavy.


Cracked plates and silverware,

We all sit

Glaring,

Staring out

The dishwasher door.

Clean and dirty,

Silent as

The cold linoleum,

Tired of being stacked and scraped and smeared

With insatiable appetites.


Good night,

Sleep tight,

Have dreams about the brightest light

That’s ever reached

Your pretty heart

Wake with a smile because you might

Just break through

To someone’s thoughts,

Like stars shooting into sight.


We were
All toes yesterday.
Busy schedules and deadlines
Squished us together
In a pair of
Too-tight tennis shoes,
Covering us in
A hot layer
Of sweat and stress,
Each hunched over
By the common bond
Of forward movement and littleness,
Of chipped nail polish
And blisters.