untitled [‘myself’]

I saw a photo of myself —
realized the pain of being me;
the torment of looking the way I do.
And I still enjoy being me.
I sank deeply into self loathing;
directly began self destruction.
I began to want out of myself.
Agony of self-awareness and the
harshness of feeling defeated by
my own body.
And suddenly I was tired.
I am still tired, still angry, still depressed.


St Patrick’s Moon

St Patrick’s moon shone
gently on us as we left
Texas, back to our lives.
The brief stays seem sad
and this was the last visit
with all of us single.

St Patrick’s moon shone
on the new baby — born
to make some forget
the tragedy its birthday
marked — the sadness of
this anniversary of death.

St Patrick’s moon shone
through the just-cracked blinds
on Laurisa’s face — the new
life growing within her body.
More family, more joy,
more love to make us forget.

St Patrick’s moon shone
through the rear window of
JD’s car onto my face as
I smiled. My life seems
to be getting closer to real.
I laughed a little because
life can be so wonderful.