Silver threads

Silver threads
a burning patch of winter
numbered dates flipping past
without that weathered sense of dignity

There are numerous things left to do
the usual limits of time pressing fiendishly forward
if only we could – if only for a second – catch our breath
tropophobia settling in.

3.3.09
JMG

The Countdown

An intoxicated swirl plus
a need for constant contact
pulse
pulse

Here, put your hand where my heart is.
The silence, here, is deafening.

Patter tick
I can hear you breathing –
200 centimeters away and counting.

11.14.08
JMG

On the Verge of my 26th Birthday

tick, tick, tower
my luck is crumbling to make room for progress
perception skipping a broken tune
early rising to early riser
this is it, now

bloated reality punctured by tiny pin pricks
each held by individual emotions
“enough!” they repeat,
but it’s still the opposite.

11.13.2008
JMG