Why do you write poetry?
is the icebreaker of nightmares,
an answerless multiplicity
of syllables and dreamscapes that coalesce
the same as white tees and red wine.
There is only coincidence beneath
every great love story
and this is no exception.
Why because my mother worked nights
and laid to rest as I woke.
My sprightly, boyish words
had nowhere to go
but the page.
There are one million other