bane of Earth spawn of Hell devil incarnate clawed from the womb of the Mother forged in the furnace of selfishness fueled by ancient blood fire-breathing monster of the indolent mass serpentine footprint spreads marking in stone passage of the Beast
Vanity of a Bike Commuter
I feel so much cooler than the people in their cars. They can feel it too. Even the wealthy woman in her sixty-thousand dollar Lexus looks with envy at my five hundred dollar Specialized as I glide noiselessly past, through weather she would not check her mail in. I can feel their animosity grow as I illuminate their selfishness and fear with my example of non-conformist green living. Who does he think he is, riding a bike in winter? Why doesn't he get a car like everybody else?
Grey
Grey. Not the dismal grey of rainy weather that lasts from dawn to dusk, but the grey of change. Violent, vibrant grey. Equal parts abysmal black and blinding white, like the leading edge of a sprinting August storm or the canvas of a sunrise.
Poem (Untitled)
In little circles I go round to end up at the start Trying to escape the sounds pounding in my heart