There’s nothing you need.
There’s nothing you want.
Except, that you do want,
Something.
Something that says:
“I’m thinking about you.”
“I remember you.”
“You matter.”
Things that could be said
with actual fucking words.
But words can sound trite.
Words can sound too easy.
And a gift takes more.
More than a moment.
More than a word.
The more of a gift is
Something.
And something’s not nothing.
So I hope you enjoy this gift.
I chose it just for you.
birthday
Real
poetryYou know who your real friends are
Because they send you text messages
At 12:01 wishing you a “Happy Birthday!”
The rest just leave posts on your Facebook wall.
on my birthday
poetryi want beer and yellow cake with
sprinkled frosting and then another
beer i want sunshine and wind
in my hair (or across my baldness)
i want donuts and beer and donuts
then more donuts and people
to tell me i’m special by giving
me beer and donuts and most of
all i don’t want people to leave
me notes on my facebook
Hello 27
poetryI welcomest thou
and praisest thou
for giving unto me
an excuse,
nay an explanation,
nay a justification
for my in progress
male-pattern balding,
unexcused by my previous 26 years.
the sieve and the sand 