Momentarily Monumental, Nowadays Nothingmuch

Greece and Rome had their monuments.

So, we, too, had each other:

built up from nothing,

but sweat and dreams

and left to lie fallow

when we left our altars

to worship other gods.

And we were once again



Shut Up and Write

We all come from broken childhoods

neglected, tormented, lonely, discouraged.

We’ve all lived through certain heartbreak

tragic melancholy, hope irreparably shattered

We’ve all suffered through loss and

inundation. Life is too much, often,

and disproportionately.

Yet this doesn’t make us average,

or even mundane.

Most people find the strength in themselves to

conquer these mountains,

but we summit these experiences

and feel compelled to tell the stories

until the hurt seeps out of us

and we can write

our own new endings.


As she lay dying

I understand

that I can’t be

the reason she lives for.

She has to fight through

this on her own,

finding her own reason

to keep those old hands working,

that weary heart to beating.

And I, too, must search

now, to find my reason

to be here.

One that doesn’t include

spending my life

seeking her love,