Friday, August 10, 2018

graduation

rows of eager soon-to-be adults
line up in chairs, attentive,
waiting for a stranger
to say their name.

one by one, we walk,
we shake, we smile,
we wave, we sit,
we wait, until the end.

years of friendships,
romances, heart-breaks,
youthful excursions
and adventure - over.

hats were in the air
when i caught myself
staring blankly at the floor,
pondering the meaning of it all

when my friend looked over
said "are you all right?"
as i blinked it all away
and replied, "yeah, i'm fine"

the day of

i wandered through my parent's house
that i spent 18 years living in
as if i was visiting for the first time,
every room familiar, but foreign.

it was in the dining room,
memories of thanksgivings,
that i broke down
and began to sob.

packed luggage and boxes surrounded me
as the coming reality of college
and a change to my way of life
caught up to me after a lazy summer.

three months spent alone,
in the midst of an addiction
that pushed away old friends
and the possibility of new ones.

and now, over 10 years later,
i'm left wondering whether
my "best years" are those i miss,
or those i missed completely.

Tuesday, March 13, 2018

flint

i've been a lot of places,
but few are as unique
and none as tragic,
as flint, michigan.

where the soft glow
of mellow street lamps
illuminates a soft snowfall
covering dead bodies.

a crying mother, hysterical,
gently guided by cops.
her son on the ground,
freezing if not already dead.

with a past so bright it stings
to look at old videos and pictures,
to remember what once was
and seemingly will never be.

in a world rushing to worry
about global warming, nukes,
the next election, and stocks,
flint has paused, forgotten.