40Mornings1

I bought a waterproof notepad in 2012 and hung it on my shower wall. For the next 40 days, I wrote a new poem every morning when I showered (save for one day when I didn’t shower at all). These poems are all very short—maybe even sweet—and cover a variety of topics.

No. One

Remember the ground
   as children?
Riddled with life
   & unknown decay;
bliss grew as tongues,
   teeth, & stretched lips.
Remember
   our potted smiles?

No. Two

Long ago, a pair
of hickory boys
blossom untold
budding grain.
Two doves grow
hungry, though,
& feast on seeds
of boiling rain.

No. Three

The 27 bones of my hand,
   with their sweaters
   & overcoats,
shield most of you all
   from the lightning
   & thunder
who stampede
   the singular organ
   of my clouded
   mind.

No. Four

The clouds are in bloom;
   my nose seeps its life.
      Imagine the two
swapped hues:
   Rosebuds of the air
looking over
   my rushing waters.

No. Five

How can you suds
   bear what I’ve done?
You take my dirt
   & wash away
   all of my wrongs
   so I never
   will be filthy,
   never again.

No. Six

I wish I were an apple
   & some wonderly lovely
would do a bit of picking
   see my crisp surface
disregard concern for worms
   the caverns found
      inside
   & see me
      for what I’ve shown:
a fruit
   who is just fine.

No. Seven

Perhaps our clay is plain,
   the seas are spilling over…
All of life
   & its divine wishes
are cast upon the pirates
   marauding the microcosms,
whose glow we know
   to ever be
      the raiders’ light.

No. Eight

I have written
far too many
   words
to find myself
   alone.

No. Nine

My wife exists:
   I may know her,
   I may not.
But, oh, how I love her.
How I will
   tangle our fingers
   trace her silhouette
   tiptoe my lips
along those highs & lows.

No. Ten

I am engineer
   to the single greatest
   machine:
      the head of war,
      the birth of calm;
      begin to loathe
      the ode to love;
      speak to life
      & all she was.

September 10 – October 20

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