Poems

An American Bar - Chicago 2023

Two girls in tiny tops.

Boys in backward caps repping white socks. 

The girls each want a little kiss,

To make it the days they’ll one day miss? 

Stars, stripes, and sports, 

On tap brews of all sorts- 

Our flag is plastered across the scene 

And of the crowd, 50% are teen.

The bearded bartenders slamming down the pints on deck 

Are the clear desire of the girls’ lingering peck. 

The rest just scream current or retired frat row,

Mr Brightside and they are dropping it low.

The heart of the Midwest…

Here at the center- we are united the best?

This is the reflection of the American core,

In all its vexed culture we profit on to ignore. 

What is it that so clearly makes this bar the United States?

The way the bros are bros and not mates? 

Their lack of maturity and predisposed fates? 

The two girls’ guilt free objectification of a white man's face?  

The downing of booze to let all memory erase? 

Is all that our amazing grace?

The two girls in tiny tops, 

That they bought in fast fashion shops, 

Kiss not a bartender or a bro 

And in the end are plenty content with so. 

They are headed back east the next day, 

The Midwest is far too American for them anyway…

Or this one bar just led them astray…

But really this bar is there no matter the state they stay. 

My Window Sill in Manhattan - New York 2023

They shriek, they yelp, they are in uproar. Causers of commotion, of chaos. They peel us away from our indoor movements. They distract. They demand. Attention.

We give them a second, we grimace out at them. And then we withdraw. We continue moving. We start talking. 

They are silenced. They become observers, lurkers. Sneaky voyeurs whose sight we don’t validate, we don’t acknowledge, but their eyes still watch us. 

They see into our world, they know it too well. We will never bother to know theirs. Maybe we don’t know how to. We don’t approach unless they are the source of our distraction, a discomfort to our motion. They have to beg for us to come look out at them, eye to eye. To see their eyes are there.

But even if we acknowledge them. Even if we think about them watching us every time we have sex on our bed next to our window, where do we go from here?

They will always look in and we will always look out. 

A Queens bound E train - New York 2023

You choose the car. To pack yourself in.

You choose the teen crying

who makes you sad,

the baby eating a pizza

who makes you hungry. 

In Queens you will buy a slice

to make yourself feel better. 

Does the shoulder-to-shoulder, eye-to-eye make you anxious, 

or feel less lonely?

You choose them, do they choose you? 

What if you had chosen the empty car? 

Would you then be happy and full? 

Or you would get to Queens and have nothing to do. 

You always choose the most crowded car. 

Balcon Morning -Mallorca 2022

The weak wooden chair with a plush red seat 

Is where you remain and appear so discrete 

As you puff on your morning treat. 


You chatter on the phone 

The words twirl through the air in your graceful tone 

Of a language so foreign and unknown.

How wild it is we share this same balcon. 


You play faintly French rap 

Though it's nothing compared to American trap.

The sun kisses your face, it illuminates your map. 

I follow the route from your eyes to your lap. 


Together we sit and watch the boats, 

Your smoke flings around us as a morning overcoat. 

Dialogue streams, vaporizes, and begins to float, 

Yet for each one’s quote 

An extra moment for understanding we must devote 

And for every new word- take note, 

From the balcon, that is the only way we will cross the moat. 

Patience is our boat. 


For you this little anecdote 

I wrote- 

And this is your footnote. 

The Backdrop from the Balcony -Mallorca 2022

A backdrop of silent scenery,

An outline of mountains, still seas. 

An array of parked yachts,

motionless palm trees, sand without one footprint. 

All is set. 

A string of children cycling. 

A couple in tacky floral strolling hand in hand. 

A boozy bunch of Germans sailing in.  

British Airways gliding by. 

A rotating cast of characters

Pouring themselves into the scene.

The set is left still,

the props slightly out of place, 

but soon the next show will begin. 

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