BEFORE THE STORM

tiny balloons
covered in hedgehog spikes
are inflating behind my nose
they grow and expand
up under my eyeballs
and it worries me
as i know that the bigger
the balloons get
the bigger
faster
harder
and uglier
my tears will be
when they come


or maybe i just have
to sneeze

TEMPERATURE

When it's hot like this and the air is wet
I kind of feel like death is sitting on
My chest and pinching my nose and
Tickling me so I can't breathe.
It's January.
What the Hell.

A STICK-MAN DOESN'T MEAN MUCH

the sign on the wall
by the electrical outlet
in the booth closest to the door of the café
has a picture of a bed
with a stick-man upon it
and a red slash that means
"No Doing This"
and i don't know why it's there
maybe because the booth isn't a bed
or to remind you you're in public
or because there're 19 couches
8 feet away
where it would be a lot more productive to sleep

WHAT I DO

I don't write poems
I write observations
With line breaks in
Awkward places because I think
That sort of counts as a
Poem