april 5th

a haiku about a scratty kid on a tiny motorbike



kid's squealing engine
ripping up suburban green
makes me want to kill

april 4th

a poem about language


a look of confusion spreads
from confused eyes to shaking heads
it must have been something i said.
i trip on trying to explain
myself - dont we speak the same
language - yet you remain
extremely easy to confuse
by words in common alternate use.
if you dont know you could deduce
distill, assume, ignore or guess
my meaning - maybe just confess
you dont get me - i get you less