Untitled (March 27, 2007)

a five minute stroll
from Mcdonalds to my class—
perfectly timed rain

5am Monday Night (March 26, 2007)

cold breeze teases
it keeps me cool but awake
playing with the leaves


roommates sleeping
everybody is sleeping
except me and tea


like a human heart
my room doesn't stop beating
as the city sleeps

Indian Buffet (March 22, 2007)

all-day hunger
helps me et my moneys worth
Indian buffet


needy stomach
only one hour remains
before sustenance


winter bicycle
enjoys its final spring
doomed to disposal


brace for impact
as the tests are handed back
pleasantly surprised

Back to School (March 20, 2007)

counting the due dates
six weeks after spring break
no more school ever


joy and nourishment
just under a dollar—
double cheeseburger


late class tomorrow
sleep without consequence
alarm clock set to four


surprisingly light
night class doesn’t feel like night
until it’s over


lazy sunset
people are cheerful
in the bright dusk


squirrels find treasures
beneath receding ice
box of milk duds


rusty bike chain
academic motivation
—both decompose

Spring Break Weekend (March 12, 2007)

a hangover
one remaining memory
first glass of wine


ring of mystery
phone shouting for attention
telemarketer


new batch of tea—
enjoyed in silence
while computer boots

Longest Shift Ever (March 9, 2007)

paper cup—
the tea I sip from it
loses something



ambulance screams by
people’s conversation
uninterrupted



ten hour shift
just three hours in
I need a shower



shining sun
snow melting off rooftops
gutter rain

Spring Break (March 8, 2007)

two hours early
double check alarm clock
—back to sleep happy


every day
the trip to school and back
longer than before


last day of school
surrounded by empty seats
spring break starts early?

Film Study (March 7, 2007)

warming pavement
overtaking cold snow
arrival of spring


bike without gloves
halfway through the bike ride—
I learn regret


research paper?
I purchase a research book
Finding Betty Crocker


journey in silence
only music of the wind
—broken ipod


micron archival
an artistic instrument
the king of pens


my untied shoelace
I contemplate tying it …
it remains untied

Darkness (March 6, 2007)

snow keeps on falling
tracks of my bicycles
—disappearing


unhappiness mounts
parallel to falling snow
Lisa is my plow


empty pockets
I check my bag for chap-stick
My lips cry for help