the sieve and the sand

Man, I hate grammar!
What the heck is a gerund?
Thank God for poems.

covered in curled pubes,
once white porcelain now
iridescent yellow glows.

So how come when the
Stormy weather finally leaves,
It still isn’t sunny?

Bright strands of light
Piercing through the window
Warm against my skin

Streetlights glow brightly
Alongside an empty avenue
Not a soul in sight

in the silence
before you start the song:
the soft crackle of the amp.

under the fuzzy orange glow
of streetlamps in the mist
the tires’ hiss skates across my dreams.

amid overgrown grass,
and windblown trash:
yellow blossoms.

piles of wet leaves
burn a subtle orange sheen
in this winter rain.

shattered glass
spread across the cement
reflects the sun’s light.

on the bath mat
the soggy imprint
of your exit.

music pulses and
people emerge from houses
when winter turns its back.

i’m lost in
a tangle of sheets
still warm from your body.

I love olympics…

Like how much it snowed back home

To one-up others.

from the open mouth
of a green fire hydrant:
a frozen flow into the street.

ice encases everything
creating memories out of cars
and blades of grass.