Eight Day Weeks


Between
sunny Sundays
and
blue Mondays,
laid a day
so dark
and full
of hate
that it shall
not be named.




Gray


There's no black,
there's no white.
There's no wrong,
there's no right.
There's no good,
there's no evil.
There's no dark,
there's no light;

because just before
the looming storm,

exists distant, infinite
shades of gray.




Thoughts and Prayers


When a national tragedy
becomes just another day
and the news is always
"BREAKING",

grab a letter sized
white envelope
and fill it with all of the

thoughts and prayers

from your big heart
and your little head,
then lick and seal it
shut before they escape
into the open air,
stick on a stamp,
and wait until the
next day's tragedy
for the address
to mail it to
your child's school.




Hello Sorrow


Hello Sorrow
my first friend,
will you allow
me to drown
in burning rivers
of fire water,
or float like
a hollow log
as you hover over
the ghostly souls
of all who you
have met before,
until you arrive
to make the
skies cry,
or will you keep
me afloat like
a log flowing
downstream,

and we meet again,
my last friend.




Even When You're Dead


Even when you're dead
the neurons keep firing

ping-zing-bing-ding
against the inside of the skull,

but tricking others into thinking
that figeting, flickering and flinching
doesn't mean that you're still living.