Capturing Campus: Post-gestation

new year, old her

scared of nothing

worth the fear

who knew nothing

of the world

watched with clean eyes

lucky

she knew she was 

but didn’t know 

the possibilities that mold and fur

on the tongue 

the promises of freedom

that smoldered 

like the end of a cigarette 

snuffed out 

walking by

faceless people dying on faceless ground

turning heads away from death

kicking change from Big Gulp cups

because there aren’t any Coinstars where we’re going

where we’re going 

some argue is already written

but the news is always new

always angry 

spitting words wedged between molars 

spoken without pause 

not meant to be held by a head

how can shoulders bear

the weight?

waiting for the refresh to stop 

circling the drain

staring at the screen 

calling it a friend

because who has friends these days?

red veins where the whites were

it’s time to go to sleep; dreaming in blue

forget today and tomorrow

the next day

too—late for living 

is this what the world always was?

we are told things were better

but were they ever

what we remember?

the skin she was born with

that was supple and growing

is no longer growing

but dying

bleeding with knowing

knowing all there is 

to be scared of

and there is so much to be scared of.

Capturing Campus: Gluttire

Crack the knuckles 

at the knot

Tug the jaw

leave it slack for consumption

Gulp eggs whole

Thread chicken between teeth

Strands of sticky sauce

in the corners

and globs of rice on spoons

Molars press on bones and bread

Drink the wine and wince

at the bitter in cavities

and bleeding gums

Taste saccharine

songs of ice cream melting in 

momentary pleasure

Plead with paprika

stinging of soup

and hunks of potato 

in the battered pheasant

On the table

slice with knives and devious eyes

pork rinds and punishment

A bulk in the chest

begging for 

one    more        bite.

Capturing Campus: A Little

I die a little each day

I breathe in and out even when I cannot

bear 

the silence

I think of you often

I think of us sometimes

mostly in the dark

The day feels too delicate

to suffocate beneath the weight

of your going

You’ve gone

I sometimes think

you’ll come back to me

flowers in hand

a smile on your face

and everything will be okay

Until then, I’ll die a little each day

Capturing Campus: the Forest

the Forest

there are whispers in these woods

they call 

to me Breathing 

sweet nothings

born from blackberries

and figs The promise of purpose 

pomegranate seeds 

mashed by molars

mystifying It’s alive 

and breathing

though the exhale doesn’t 

stop

and the air has runs

and the lungs don’t 

e x p a n d

between trees 

the metallic clicking 

a painful 

gurgling The mouth of the forest 

opens wide

stealing air  

blood 

body 

from my soul

o u t s t r e t c h e d am I

doomed to the final moment

a death rattle

Capturing Campus: Soulful

Soulful

Autumn leaves in piles

at your feet I smile

whisked up in the chill

of bare tree limbs

regal in poses

possessing the spirit

with promises of apple cider

and cinamon sticks

knitted sweaters

with kaleidoscope jewels

and amber sap

on sticky fingers

finding their way to

comfort in decay

an annual dance

of those bewitched 

by western winds

Fortunate are those

with the autumnal soul