Indian Giver

ten very short poems

Photo by Amaury Gutierrez on Unsplash

---

Collateral 

I hurt one ankle
then I hurt 
the other ankle

because I was
overcompensating 
for the original

hurt. This is 
how the whole
world works.

---

Seattle Song

Cold rain on the other
side of my window.

A warm bed on
this side of my life.

No matter how
quiet the city is,

it remains loud.
There are so many

reasons why I write
poems instead 

of leaving
my house.

---

Partisan


It's braver
to embrace

your foes
than to hold

your loved
ones close.

---

Fragile

Year after year,
one red tulip grows

at the base
of our mailbox.

I find it surprising 
that no passerby 

has ever crushed it
beneath their boot.

---

Smoke Alarm

The battery
is dying
at three a.m.

and making
noises like
a hungry bird

but here I am
thinking 
of words

that rhyme
with chirp,
chirp, chirp.

---

Sex

The mess
is what
makes it
the best.

---

Home

I spent my childhood 
at the intersection 

of one great river
and one greater river

but I was never
a swimmer. That's okay.

I know how to stand
on the shore and praise

the water's shimmer.

---

Indian Giver


You've got it reversed.
It was white men

who gave us
a few acres of dirt

then attacked at dawn
and took them back.

---

Amen, Amen

There are people
who still kneel

beside their beds
and bow their heads

to pray. Am I
jealous of their faith?

Sometimes, yes.
I wonder if 

it's possible
for anything to be

both secular
and blessed.

---

Love Song

My wife and I
sleep in separate 

beds because
of my nightmares

and because
I sometimes

converse
with the dead.

So, after thirty
years of marriage,

it can still feel
like the beginning

when we slip
beneath the covers

and go
skin to skin.