The Dream We All Dream But Can't Admit

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i laid in bed
and closed my eyes
and dreamed of sleep
the sweetest dream
one can have
while wide awake

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New Glasses

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i looked up
it was 6 pm
And i saw the moon
rising again
And smiled
Because this time
i could see
everything
each crevasse
and imperfection
It was the first time
i saw the moon
for what it was

(beautiful)

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Photokeratitis

And if you squinted you could see
A couple walking distantly
Like figments of a fog

Their haloes wrapped concurrently
Beneath a bearded, wizened tree
They spoke of love so mystically
The breeze it settled instantly
As if in raptured pause

Throughout their moonwalk melodies
The sun did shine so splendidly
Oh dream oh heart oh ecstasy
The world passed by so quietly
Hear birds allowing you to me
Oh God it hurts so much to be
The sacrosancht melancholy
Of being half a whole

And while they spoke the scenery
Did curl up in a winter freeze
And shriveled up its ancient leaves
Then headed to the coast

And if you squint today you'll see
The sun-blind spot of memory
A couple walking distantly
Like figments of what was
They faded just because

One of Those Nights

i had one of those nights
you know those nights

just thought one glass of wine

nights, only meant another

nightcap nights but

i’ve been out here two months 

and haven’t been out

and they’re gathering 

in the kitchen 

roommates

i haven’t met yet but

they invite me along for

one of those nights

which is how I ended up

discussing morality

with the Canadian kid

origins are a funny thing

from Alberta, but really from

Pakistan, at least, his 

parents (have you been,

awful place, Pakistan is,

he says) and I agree

that we are not

where we are
from. Would you
blow up the bridge
or the baby?

so it was

that type of night

one of these nights

i’ll wake up

refreshed and alone

you’ll have 

wrapped my skin

in a mannequin

and left me

to admire

the moonlight again. 

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Another Night in September

My untied shoe
The broken pipe
My half-smoked cigar
The gushing water
My unfinished article
The trickling street
My faint shadow
The beauty of it all

I walked away
and returned
it was gone

Exposure

she was good because she felt

i felt bad because i didn't

we remember such things

when leaves change and

we notice the cracks in

sidewalks again, when

we look down more

(look up)

the sun is a cursor

it leads to the Potomac

where she floats

naked and burnt

i’m trembling to touch

and i reach out

and the water is wine

and then blood

we remember such things

i, remember, this thing

still, she floats

Reading

hold me

at the corner

of a page

in that moment

before turning

pause

just a second

and wonder

what happens 

when you leave 

one

for another

and you forget

the words 

to move on

pause

before you do

and wonder

if you are 

ready

to make

this page past

pause

just a second

before turning

that moment

of changing

from present

to past

to future

pause

(and turn)

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