An Unread Note to Self

 

Look at us dancing

with gleeful abandon

as the tape

of your childhood

plays

 

Your dance unreserved,

no matter who 

was watching

 

We were partners,

companions

 

Now you step 

in front of a mirror

and you no longer see me

 

You only see flaws,

imperfections,

never beauty

 

The mirror never 

bringing a smile

 

The world told you

you didn’t deserve me,

you couldn’t have me

 

That self-confidence

was only for others

 

That whatever you were,

it wasn’t enough

 

The echoes still 

play in your mind

every time you

tamper your joy

 

You shouldn’t dance,

you’re embarrassing

 

You can’t sing,

just mouth the words

 

Save the world 

from your shame,

your inadequacy

 

But I remember

when we danced

25 Jan 2021

Watch the video

Ten Things I Remember About January 28, 1986

1. I didn't yet know hope could just explode, without a warning sing

2. But I knew Julie Paolano was the cutest girl in school

 

3. I wasn’t in school that day

 

4. I was home with my grandmother watching a television with the screen built into its wooden stand

 

5. The flash lit the screen

 

6. I was naïve enough that even when the rocket burst into flames in front of my eyes, I believed it was only a test run, because it couldn’t have happened if people were on board

 

7. My grandmother had to tell me I was wrong

 

8. My illusion was not the only thing that shattered that day

 

9. My grandmother lasted eleven more years than the Challenger, but her demise held warning signs I had since learned to recognize

 

10. The warning signs failed to make the loss any easier

28 Jan 2021

Watch the performance

 

In Search of Duct Tape

My heart

naïve, eager,

excited

 

My heart 

dancing, singing,

soaring

 

My heart

irresistibly tempted

by her beauty,

her intellect, 

her charm

 

My heart,

despite the warnings,

carelessly leaping

 

My heart,

in its haste, 

forgetting 

the parachute 

 

My heart

crashing

 

My heart 

shattered 

on the jagged rocks

I pretended would

not this time

be waiting

 

My heart

searching for 

duct tape

to piece itself

together again

 

My heart

longing for something

to dim the pain

 

Summer 2020

Watch the video (featuring the artwork of Autumn Harvey)

Crushed

A moment of bliss

A dream I wanted to last

Fuck the alarm clock

 

Summer 2020

Playing with Fire

My heart’s arsonist arrives,

gasoline on her lips

 

The sparks ignite before

I can taste her first kiss

 

Flames flicker then flare,

my heart engulfed

in the stinging heat

 

But it is the sweetest fire

and all I want to do is burn

 

3 August 2020

Entrances and Exits

After weeks of rehearsal,

the paid crowd awaits

 

The thrill of opening night, 

less than thrilling this time

 

I can’t break a leg

if I don’t take the stage 

 

But my heart is not here,

 

it is trapped in a hospital

with a boy who no longer 

wants to live

 

Will I miss my entrance?

Will I miss his exit?

 

The curtain rises,

the show must go on

 

Thank God,

or Daphne du Maurier,

the play is set

in the apocalypse

 

So I can pretend 

the whole world 

is collapsing,

instead of just 

my own

 

21 July 2020

(reflecting on past events)

Kickball and Brimstone

We line the recess fence,

metaphorical lambs 

being led to what I hope 

is only metaphorical slaughter

The whispers begin,

even before the captains

commence the long-winded

explanation of rules

If you kick the ball

with the wrong foot,

Jerry claims,

God boots you off

his team immediately

(I didn’t even know

there was a wrong foot)

They say there was a time, 

adds Pearl, 

God drowned his whole team

for not listening, 

except for just one family 

and a couple giraffes

(The stakes were higher

than I thought)

Satan starts with his rules

“Eh. Whatever.”

(Oh, or maybe not)

But God pulls out a book

that brings groans 

from its sheer size

(I got lost in the begats

and admittedly tuned out

for a time)

I love you, 

but if you don’t do it right,

God’s deep voice demanded,

your body will be kept alive 

and scorched for eternity

(Somehow I wasn’t feeling

all warm and fuzzy)

Satan’s eyes gleamed

at the burning part

(A bunch of pyromaniacs)

I decided I didn’t want 

to play after all

30 Jun 2020

Watch the performance with Brett Voina

Breakfast Just Out of Reach

The moment my toast 

sits deliciously 

atop my plate,

Michael Jackson’s 

chorus on Rockwell’s 

song instantly returns 

to my head

And looking down

at the begging eyes

and unquenchable hunger

of the pug at my feet,

someone was indeed

watching me

He likes his love best

when it’s topped

with peanut butter

21 May 2020

(photo by Brady Allison)

Rockwell's song

Who Needs Hair When Your Heart is Made of Gold (For Shirley Monnin)

The kindness 

in your eyes 

sparkles

as you rock

that bald head

Hurdles thrown 

in your way

fail to dampen

your joy, your faith,

your love

Which you spread

without exception 

Ensuring that

in all directions,

beauty shines

29 Feb 2020

Redundant Circles Never Leading Anywhere

The slight hint

of green is enough

to excite my feet

rapidly into motion,

wind rippling 

through my fur

For a moment,

I feel alive

The thrill dies

in a few short strides

as I’m met with bars,

a gate, a fence, a wall

A trap I can’t seem 

to escape

Déjà vu,

every damn day

My life defined,

enclosed,

by the men who 

built my narrow bars,

selling tickets 

so children could see

the sad remnants 

of my caged life

I pace in desperation,

my life reduced

to redundant circles

never leading me anywhere

Despite the illusion

of comfort,

my body knows

that trapped

is not where I belong

Mar 2020

This was written as part of The Zoo, which is a collaboration (in writing and performance) with Zach, combining music and poetry. You can view the full piece here:

The Zoo - Zach and Keith 

Hinges

They wanted me 

to stay inside their box,

to color 

inside their lines

They wanted me 

to stay inside their box,

easily judged,

easily classified

They wanted me 

to stay inside their box,

afraid, 

if my box moved,

their box would

topple from its

comfortable perch

They wanted me 

to stay inside their box,

but their box

was narrow

and empty

They wanted me 

to stay inside their box,

but there were

hinges on the lid

26 Apr 2020

Watch the one minute animated video

Deejaying to an Audience of One

Once, 

we controlled

the airwaves

Well,

within a tiny radius,

for a couple hours

each week

Blasting

Weird Al

and the Beatles

and whoever else

we pulled from

our backpacks

each Wednesday night

Now,

headphones

keep me company

on long walks alone

And

I still control

the music

But

the audience,

as statistically 

insignificant

as it was,

has dwindled

to one

New

discoveries and

underappreciated gems

fill my ears

Leaving

me longing

for the days,

sitting beside

one of my

best friends,

microphones

in front of us,

laughing and jamming,

the decision

of which track

would next hit 

the airwaves 

sitting snugly

in our hands

24 Apr 2020

Memories That Dance in the Rain

Childhood memories

tiptoe, twist,

tango, and tap dance

their way among

the drops

Drops of rain

onto the photographs

of our minds,

embrittled from

our oily hands,

whose loving touch

has left them

bent and warped  

Drops

inadvertently

embellished

with family lore

and yellowed

from the endless

procession of 

sunlight

until we can 

no longer tell

which moisture

is the true

memory of sweat

and which drops

were simply

the result

of the rain

24 Apr 2020

Watch it performed, with Theresa Göttl Brightman

Swimming Upstream

Struggling against 

the current of society’s 

seeming indifference 

Flashing neon signs 

point downstream, 

trying to obscure the 

pain and suffering 

of the well-traveled path 

Trying to harden 

our minds and our hearts, 

so we ignore the plight of others 

and concern ourselves with 

only our own comfort 

Trying to convince us 

the stream only goes one way 

and it is useless to fight 

But the path upstream 

is filled with love 

and that is the 

destination we seek 

30 Oct 2019

written as a collaboration with Zach's song "Volunteer"