why half my photos come out blurry

in one hand 

I hold a squirming dog 

on a leash tightly 

feet planted firmly

but the flora beckons 

amidst stone cracking 

vines in a rusty fence

manifestation and the wind

if I meditate on a thing it will….

well fuck me, here comes a tornado…

the accidental poet

remember when I meant to write 

paperback novels - frayed at the edge

but the heaviness of my world 

laid bare a soul crashing on rocks jagged

blackened and bruised, ink from veins spilt

closed-off rooms confuse me

the ringing in my ears

is inordinately loud 

amidst the stillness 

of unconditioned air

if I move to the room 

cooled by an oscillating fan

it becomes a humming

and I can breathe, shallow 

drowsily with a bit of vertigo

I’ve never needed 

alcohol or pills to feel afloat 

She’s is a GenX b- screaming, “YOUR MOM….”

weather and its forecast

seems to change on a dime

or a nickel - if they still make 

such a thing - and it’s not 

where I live but everywhere 

I have lived - it’s the Earth, the 

Omniverse…