Friends,

There are words I can not find
However much I’ve tried;
Awestruck in my gratitude
Not having been denied
Kindnesses I could not earn

Yet given, unreserved -
Occluding tepid fear with faith,
Upheld, though undeserved.

Simpletom

toothpicks
and matchsticks
and old books
and card tricks

pocket knives
and forty-fives
and treble hooks
and moonlight drives

wintertime
and words that rhyme
and Underdog
and lemon-lime

skirts that spin up
past the knees –
I’m not too hard
a man to please.

After Math

If x is made
and y is miss;
bedeviled by
Pythagoras

speed plus you
reflecting me -
a hapless heart’s
velocity

subtracting promise
with a kiss -
the algebra
of lonesomeness

fractals formed
by each percent;
the Weierstrass of
our discontent

algorithmic
imprecision
squarely rooted
long division

slipping slowly
by degrees -
our misaligned
geometries

If x is break
and y is bliss;
I never could
pass calculus.

Providance

It may be that I’m simple
but sometimes I get the sense
there are reasons I can’t reckon
inside each coincidence

when a tangled mess of moments
come and go like time and chance
in positions forming purpose
it seems more than happenstance

take a hand you cannot see
take a step with confidence
towards an end you cannot know
and walk into providence

as my best-laid plans unravel
by my faults and flaws and frauds
I get tripped up by my failures,
false assumptions and facades

and although I can’t explain it
I can never quite dismiss
quiet mercies in the madness
surpassing serendipitous

take a hand you cannot see
let it lead through dissonance
to a music you can’t hear
and lean into providence