You come and go so sporadically and casually and are gone for such lengths of time, that it shouldn’t exist, but something keeps that electricity going, something is keeping the lights on. I can’t help it. Continue reading From Pent-Up Aching Rivers — w4m (Port Huron)
I swear once I felt you. And not that I realized I had feelings, or that we brushed shoulders flitting by, but that I felt you, I felt the significance of your being there and wondered instantly how I would deal in the fleeting seconds afterward with your absence. I’ve felt even more so that I’ve missed out somehow. Continue reading I Sing the Body Electric — w4m (Port Huron)
We have spoken — kind of. But this isn’t like some missed connection where I saw you at a gas station, and we notably exchanged glances at a specific time of the week I can recall. Because you’ve rested heavy on my mind as such a low-key constant that I can’t recall when I first or last met you. Just know we have. Though, I doubt you’ll ever see this, and if you or someone you knew did, I doubt there’s a proverbial line between us that stood a chance of being connected. Nothing’s really been missed here. Still, I feel like somehow if I can get this out there, it’ll be easier to sleep at night telling other people you’re a guy to make a girl’s heart ache. Now, it aches a little less, and tomorrow, this feeling will grow even duller. Continue reading To a Stranger — w4m (Port Huron)
Driving around in an old car you fill with instruments and bags for wherever you go to make music real. Though I don’t know what you drive. I hear you go to Chicago a lot; I read that you travel around the state a lot, too. I know too much without words, but also nothing. Continue reading As if a Phantom Caress’d Me — w4m (Port Huron)
Attached to bones just as muscles are,
I can’t help thoughts that penetrate my skull.
Afraid that once we’re lost and gone afar,
I’ll know I could’ve loved you most of all. Continue reading Fantasies and Sonnets
They cut through ice as
temperatures sink, and through
sheens of sunshine as they
warm. Continue reading Counting Freighters
She told her secrets to the river. It’d become a habit. Near dusk, she’d lace up her all-terrain boots, put on her heaviest winter coat, and walk to the water. Continue reading Top-Shelf Whiskey, a prologue
There was something quite golden about the light that peaked out of Desperado’s and onto the street. A welcomeness rang from its warmth, and its subtlety kept this exclusive somehow. Or at least, this is how it seemed to Logan, who was walking home from work, as she stumbled upon the place on one particular evening in late September. The wind was sweeping deep into downtown now, catching rebounds off buildings on the square and rustling all the fallen leaves. Continue reading Top-Shelf Whiskey, an excerpt
You said maybe there’s a reason for this pain,
which doesn’t explain
why I’m loving cigarettes again Continue reading Sleeping Pills
And the wondering … ensues as walls of oncoming traffic would in commotion with my standing forever blissfully in the left-hand turn lane. Life rushes by and my emotions are so near collision but just out of reach to really know that it’s cataclysmic. Continue reading If We Got Our Shit Together
Pent-Up Aching Rivers 