Category Archives: Poems

Open House

Follow the dolphins into shore
Follow the power lines into the city
Follow the spot lights downtown
Follow the breeze into me

The balloons dangle from every street sign
The streamers swing from every fence
There’s a landing strip of Christmas lights
I spared no expense Continue reading Open House

This Year I Will Not Hibernate

This year I will not hibernate
I will not flee the cold,
Smother myself in covers,
Or bathe in the florescent glow of so many screens

This year, I will lift my quarantine
Take my bronchitis
Out for a night at the theater
Introduce it to patrons at the diner Continue reading This Year I Will Not Hibernate


Inspiration smiles on me
Beckons me to her end of the bar
Then her smile turns into a frown
Inspiration keeps shooting me down
She mutters
Speaks through balled fists
She never repeats herself
She wants me to know what she’s thinking Continue reading Inspiration

The Nicotine Always Wins

The ash tray sat in my bed. There were cherry holes in the blanket. My cat stunk of smoke. Colds lasted the entirety of the winter. The metric I used to measure distance was not miles. It was American Spirits. It took two to get to work. The cigarette smoking man on The X Files, the one who smoked through his tracheotomy, was my trigger. The cigarette between my fingers would remind me how much I wanted the next.

Smoking was part of my identity. Every one of my MySpace profile pics featured a filter screwed into my mouth. Smoking was my social in. It was my outlet when I felt put out to pasture. I smoked a pack and a half a day. My nicotine tolerance put yours to shame. Other smokers would point and say, “Well at least I’m not that bad.” Continue reading The Nicotine Always Wins

One Voice

“One voice” is one of the cardinal sins of writing. It’s when each of your characters use the same turns of phrase. When each of them are endless quip machines, hurling clichés in place of banter.

In this poem “one voice” is used to describe the shared experience of living in Minneapolis. It’s about coming of age with the same peers. Living in the same city, going to the same house parties, living out of the same coffee shops and bars. It’s about the regional accent that extends beyond words. One voice, is how we walk, how we dress, where we go and what we do. But it’s not about uniformity. It’s about isolation. It’s about the effect that people and places can have on your identity.

The meta tag for the file says it’s from 2005. That would make me 24 when I wrote it.

One Voice

We speak in one voice
One accent swapping vowels
Our “I”s become “E”s
We say “Melk”, we say “Pellow”
We are the ventriloquist dummies
That the city speaks through
We call carbonated beverages “Soda”
We call romantic interests “Prospects” Continue reading One Voice

This Is What We Do

This is another one from the archives. The meta tag says it’s circa 2006. It’s the one optimistic document in a folder full of pessimism. I figure it deserves its day in the sun.

This Is What We Do

We’ll set the industrial strength fan in the hallway
Prop all the doors on the way to the exit
Make a funnel to suck out
All the thought clouds in the air
All the questionable motives
All the sneaking suspicions
All the secret agendas
All the breathing hazards
We’ll fumigate your mind Continue reading This Is What We Do

Writers Guild

Lights dim as we enter the room
Songs change mid verse
Desperate hands shake volume knobs to signal
The shoplifters are coming
The shoplifters are coming
Our hands are so deep in our trench coats
They’re coming out the inside
With a wave of yellow fabric
We steal chunks from the setting Continue reading Writers Guild