noon to one


hood up, head down

toothpick dangling from mouth.

I carry a bit of pride this time

from Iowa.


I kick leaves,

wear, for the first time

in twenty years,

shoes without socks.


where I have faith

in southern dive bars,

she has faith in the moon.

Every night.


overheard a street story

between Peacocks

over flapjacks…

I don’t want to go downtown today.


simple boxer player in garden,

dancin’ and tryin’ to sing,

flattened and forgetting the words

when life is right.


you don't have to

buy me pants,

I can make 'em myself.

explain love to me, though.