Happy National Coffee Day!

May you enjoy a hair-free experience (unlike mine below)!

Gross(iato):
Finishing the last sip of your caramel macchiato,
only to find a small, curly hair in the bottom of your cup

Don’t Sh!t on My Black Suede Shoes

Apparently, one of my co-workers
erupted in the bathroom stall,
her brown lava flowing freely
to the floor in the ladies room,
lying in wait to defile
the soles of my brand new
black suede slip-on pro Vans.

Gross Encounters of the Terd Kind

How does a grown woman
get poop on the outside of the toilet bowl
and smear her own feces on the washroom floor at work
and leave it?

Reverse Vampires

Some people who live alone
act like reverse vampires.
They suck the bloody life
out of their co-workers by day --
demanding and commanding the attention of their colleagues,
holding court by holding folks hostage,
unloading their every thought and question and concern on people
like a dump truck possessed of the devil --
and retreat to their solitary homes alone at night,
lying in wait for the sun to come up again
and provide them with fresh blood
to live another day.

Some Things

Some things
silence the
professional speaker.
Some things
stump the
international intellectual.
Some things
paralyze the
confident wordsmith.
Some things...

Little Did We Know (Becoming Us)

The day I met you,
I didn't know
that this stranger would
become the person
I know the best.

When I first shook your hand,
little did I know
that I would
hold your hand today
and commit my forever
to you.

The first time that I
sat across the table from you
and looked into your eyes,
I couldn't have known
that those hazel eyes
would soon
see the good
and the bad in me
and accept me anyway --
the same eyes that
I will wake up to
every morning and
close in restful sleep beside
each night.

Those first drinks
on that first date --
a latte and a root beer --
would mark the beginning
of a lifetime of toasts --
culminating
in a champagne toast
on this day, our wedding day.

How could we have known
that our first conversation about
music and Patty Griffin
would reveal a shared passion
that would bond us together?
We didn't know then
that one of Patty's songs
would serve as the
conclusion to our
commitment ceremony today.

I couldn't have known that day
that you would change my life today.

Little did we know that
you and I
would become
us.

Happy Independence Day!

the cardinal
sounding off
like the Fourth of July

with gratitude to Rebecca J. Davenport for a spectacular ending

A Letter to the Predator

Dear straight Christian friend,

When you post a picture of
a burning gay pride flag online,
I am not merely encountering
an expression of an opinion.
I don't simply see a person
making a statement
about an issue.
I don't view it as
an individual "deeply devoted
to a faith based on mercy and grace"
taking a stand amidst a culture war.

I see my friend
advocating -- and perpetrating --
violence against me.
I feel threatened
and frightened
and sickened.
I see -- with my own eyes --
my friend proclaiming
to me and the world
that I am worthy of abuse.
I witness my friend
declaring me fit for
gasoline
and matches
and burning flesh
and torture
and death.

I see that my friend --
my "loving, compassionate, Christ-like" friend --
is not, in fact, my friend at all.

-- Your gay neighbor

Happy Father's Day!

Snow Garden

Our yard was a garden
of snow and our father
was the gardener. He
made snow forts and
an obstacle course of
sorts for my sisters and
me in the front yard one
winter. It was an exciting
adventure, and a little
bit scary, but I felt safe
knowing that Dad was
guiding the sled and
guarding the fort. I still
remember his laugh
that day as we squealed
with delight, holding tight
to the orange, plastic sled.

(a cardinal and a bluebird)

a cardinal and a bluebird
sitting on a white fence
suddenly feeling patriotic

(Trying to kill the spider)

Trying to kill the spider
on my steering wheel at 70 miles an hour
without killing myself or my fellow interstate travelers

Happy Mother's Day!

The Dancing Queen

She taught us what it meant to
be married to melody -- singing
and dancing across the linoleum
floor, sometimes lip-syncing and
sometimes belting out the lines
with gusto. My sisters and I sang
into hairbrushes with a sparkle in
our eyes, while the vinyl spun
'round and Mom reigned as queen
of the dining room dance floor.

When I Read a Good Poem

When I read a good poem,
I hold
each
word
for a
moment
in my mouth
before
---- moving
on to the next one, like
one
bite
of creme brulee
after
another.

Happy Record Store Day!

To Have and to Hold

If I can't hold a record or a book in my hands,
it doesn't seem quite real.
It's virtually invisible --
seemingly nonexistent.
While I can appreciate
facets of the digital world,
I want to hold art
in my hands.
I want to touch it.
I want to experience it
in a tangible way.
I want to own a piece
of the magic.
I want to commit to it,
like a partner,
like a spouse.
No cheap fling for me.
Nothing to consume quickly and
walk away from easily.
I want to invest in it.
I want it to mean something.
I want to connect to it
physically and emotionally.
I want to see it,
touch it with my fingers,
and hold it in the palms of my hands.
I want to engage with it.
I want to spend time with it.
I want to spread it out on the table
and study every inch of it.
I want to join myself
to the force of life and love
that created it.

Note: You can see the prequel to this poem, "A Johnnie for John," here.

(I danced with a bumble bee unwittingly)

I danced with a bumble bee unwittingly
during my afternoon walk
very carefully.

Poached by an Egg

Finished the last of
the hard-boiled eggs
this morning and
stabbed my thumb --
the shell shards
actually drawing blood.
I never knew
Easter eggs could
be so violent.

(Two bees)

Two bees
during mating season
gettin' busy

(Dear Co-worker)

Dear Co-Worker:
If you're picking your nose behind your clear glass office door,
I can still see you.

(Dear Co-worker)

Dear Co-worker:
"Soft" whistling still counts as whistling
in our privacy-free office.

(The loudest ones)

The loudest ones
in the office are often
the loneliest ones.