Did you know that I wrote poems once in a while?

Here are some I've written lately:


I wrote this one today in the Italian Market.

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I walk around and hope for open doors
Not figuratively, but for a view
Living rooms, kitchens, dining rooms will do
Dwellings that have been domesticated
For months or years, interiors are a reflection
I can see your life out here on the sidewalk
Books, plants, mirrors, flickering television sets
Oh, they have tubed Christmas lights up in May
Some spaces seem more permanent than others
She's been in that house her whole life
Her mother cried in the guest room as a child
But those boys with their shirts off, they're new
The walls are bare, the kitchen is empty, no rugs
A new start, a new space, a new neighborhood
I've been relocating and hunting for years
For the right spot, a home for good
I year for permanence of some kind
It seems like that place will be a house with a yard
Maybe a lover, some animals, big furniture
I'll be sure to leave the front door open here and there
So some boy on a walk's heart will swell


Dorky music enthusiast poem:

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There's nothing quite like it
When you love a record or a singer so much
That you watch where they're playing
Maybe you buy a ticket months ahead
Even drop a couple hundred
It doesn't matter what's going on in your life
You will plan around it
Just to catch a musician in person
As if some kind of miracle will be performed
If you don't get there you'll die a little inside
The next time they're in town might be years from now
This songwriter who has changed your life a little
She might just go cray or stop touring
Sometimes it's tough to prioritize
Even flipping through the Weekly
You can spot ten shows you'd like to see
But you sat on the couch and smoked bowls instead
I've never seen her before, always wishing and imagining
To think that I'm writing about it for an audience
It makes the night even more exciting
It's my responsibility to pay good attention, take it all in
Helpful, that I know almost all of her records by heart
And adore them, absolutely worship them


I wrote this on the bus:

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The biggest man I've ever seen on a bus
Wears a black t-shirt and leans over his belly
He digs through his canvas tote full of shit
Finds his discman and places it on the seat next to him
Then his CD of choice, then back in for the headphones
He has chosen the furthest back corner to occupy
He wears navy suspenders that might actually keep his pants up
Am I wrong to be fascinated by this enormous man?
As I sit with skinny cord on listening to my tiny fucking mp3 player?
I wonder where he's going and who he loves