Crossing “Volcanic Eruption” Off My Bucket List

I awoke this morning to unexpectedly see

A well-produced (for Central Java) parody

Of a thousand snowfalls from a thousand memories.

Though a strange place to see this, it's not strange to me.

A soft light falls diffuse on pristine white ground

Until dirtied with man-made streaks black and brown.

Though my old friend Jack Frost is nowhere to be found,

Pele's fiery cousins abound.

Your 2014 Pittsburgh Pirates

Last season, they won despite doubts,

'Til Divisionals, where they bowed out.

Still, their moves this offseason

Sure defy any reason.

A step back? What's that all about?

My Memories of Spring Linger Eternal and Swell Like an Unremoved Splinter In a Land Where Home's June Comes Both Summer and Winter

It could sure be worse.

I've been to Semarang. There,

It's always August.

The Bule's Truce With The Hijab

That ubiquitous and perpetual scarf

Represents the commitment to Allah in her heart

and, (regardless of my level of religious tolerance)

Between the two of us, a cold keeping of distance.

How can I say we're friends if I don't even know what she looks like?

But she helped me realize that isn't quite right,

That I'm always trying to look at people stripped of culture,

and that everything I'm seeing is the real her.

How can I say we're friends if I cannot appreciate

That as much as I am my writing, she's her faith?

What Is This New Devilry?

They say the man your dog sees is the one to try to be,

But I don't have my dog, only a flash of clarity,

When my mirror's image was routed through the eyes of enemies

(A phantom to his friends who disappoints his family,

A jerk whose conversation is as blunt as it could be,

Whose entire life seems a failed quest to come off as manly,

A man whose interests, totaled, might be just a tad scary,)

and though it's not uplifting, or as complimentary,

I must report it was a galvanizing thing to see.

I Hope These Thoughts Didn't Count

It was fun for the first ten minutes.

It was boring after the first five minutes.

It was just plain boring.

Look at it. Why would I even open the box?

I can't ever imagine having been

The kind of person who would play with that.

You say I played with it a ton when I was young,

But I clearly remember wanting a different one,

and I don't remember a time when it meant anything to me.

I don't remember that.

What is it?

Won't Stop

Because I will not stop for Love,

The world must pester me

Into a carriage bound away

From my identity.

The carriage takes a smoother path

Than I've cleared for myself.

It's said to be the thing to do,

and better for my health.

We pass a school yard, full of kids.

A handful there are mine.

They lightly tug me from my desk

With grips just like a vice.

We pass the office where I work–

It pays more than to teach–

Steady, secure, reliable

For stifling ideas.

Then I arrive at my old age.

Love drops me at a home.

I can't afford a cage like this

If I am on my own.

The destination, should I choose

To go where I am bidden,

Shall be the same grave as before,

But with my words unwritten.