Cookbook, page 29

Breakfast was unsatisfying
The sunshine made too much of it all
The rain is coming, not nearly soon enough
The birds complained about the bread crusts
(breakfast, sun, rain, birds, bread)
Recipe for a morning.

The night was interrupted twice
The stars made 2 a.m. worth it
I found myself dozing, pen in hand
The rain (still) has not arrived, and I wait
The birds sang me awake so I could write to you
(night, stars, pen, rain, birdsong)
Recipe for joy.


of random thoughts
carry me
past this place
into our first apartment
our noisy haven

with a date
into my notebook
and your eyes seeking mine
for the first time in a decade
I can sleep now


what do you want to know
I see you watching
the movements I make
so deliberately
you never see me
for I know you are there

I suppose it is the kinks
that attract you
or maybe the supposed innocence
you sense in my eyes
but I know too much
if it is incorruption
you’re looking for

too much time has passed
for me to get that look back
the regret fogging over
the twisted part of my brain
always making something dirty
out of it
out of your words
supposedly innocent

and other words
like redemption and mercy, and
seem to escape your notice
for they are not shiny
and do not stroke you
when the nights
are just too long

The nightwatchman

the nightwatchman holds steady while
everyone sleeps
stalwart through the hours
the dogs in the neighborhood
dreaming of chasing tails, cats, and squirrels
and guards the night’s secrets
all the pleasures of a night barely touched
by drowsy inhabitants
he roams freely and finds the remains of his soul
the particulates drifting off and away
during sunshine-filled days
with an aptitude for finding autumn sprites
that linger in the cool and damp
where the sultry fog meets mid-October
counting stars and watching the hours turn
always startled by first light
when it hits the windows across the street
and turns them to gold

Monday Random: just random

  • I was awake in the sweet spot of night, from 3-5
  • Both before and after this interlude, I dreamt such weird things, not all bad but all over the place. Third night in a row dreaming of my kids as small children instead of grown
  • Highlight was looking out an east window in my delirium and seeing two planets rising. Checking here I think I was seeing Venus and Mars. So cool and so bright
  • Last night I was talking to the delightful Entirety In Bits.  We nudged each other about handwritten poems like we used to submit on Twitter at #justwrite
  • Still hazy with the dreams even after 2 cups of coffee. Off to find a pen

Here’s a little something from 1957, which was always my mother’s favourite music year. I hope your Monday is outrageously good