A Second Pair of Eyes

Was it a pair?
  Or a set?

Cause a pair,  that implies two

But a set? A set!?! We might have a lot! 

Think about the whole boxed 
set of your favorite sports cards. 

Collect one or collect them all!

     Why are you shaking your head?

Yes, I did just call them sports cards.

      What do you mean that's so weirdly generic?

   I can't believe you would say 
      something like that to me. 
    You're ridiculous. 

You're saying this as someone 
    who can't even tell me
     how many eyes 
        they want to see. 

So, now, when you said pair, 
     are you talking pairs or pears?
 You know, like the fruit?
    The pear that grows on a tree?
What is wrong with you? 
     Why are you looking like that at me?

Man, I think maybe you really do need a set of eyes. 
    How many eyes you want?
        Do you need bifocals?

                   Are bifocals a pair or a set?
     See man, this is what I'm saying,
         You're not ready yet. 

Come back next week. 

I'd say see you later,
     but I don't want to complicate
    things that are already really weird.

I forgot.

I wanted to ask you your thoughts,

I wanted to ask you your thoughts,
    cause you're the one who would know
i wanted to ask you
     and then i forgot.

I want to talk to you for 
    at least an hour or two
       but we can't 

and i'm okay with that i suppose
     but what about all the things
           I forgot?

What about really wanting, 
          maybe more like needing,
      to ask your thoughts?

Whatever You Need

Whatever You Need

I could be 
  an accessibility trainer, 
  a spinner,
  a weaver, 
  a writer, 
  a savior, 
 the salt and the pepper in your shaker
 the language translator!
Wherever you need me,
 whatever the role,
 I’ll walk with you and talk with you 
   til I truly know your soul 

Fowl Language

I'd like to give a flying duck
but the feathering pluck
of flapping wings
i hear the bird sing

and i'd like to give you
a piece of the middle
to buy a brick
to build a house
where you keep the donkey out back
and the duck goes quack quack quack

a flipping flying feather = 
i really don't give one flying feather of a duck


buttons now
run the top
are these markers?
who's cooking all the slop?

fire, fire, set the alarm
call the forces that reckon
with powers that be

let's try once again
to focus on me

what's wrong
what's right
what'd you do last night?

are you eating?
are you sleeping?
are you circling in circles
and pacing through the halls?

How are you feeling today?
Do you feel okay?

Why don't you reach out to touch me to see–
align all the rows
so perfectly
 - like numbers falling under
in corners and squares
a postage stamp 
  to pretend that you care

what a card, what a hoot,
  hope this makes you feel better?

the best part was
ripping it up
and drawing out lines

i hate that i feel like hating you
i want to be happy.
i want to care. 
i'm pretty sure i'm tired though
and i'm too old to be there

so i'll find myself a table
and wait for you -


It’s probably too late

I don't think
i was in time
marching out of place
i think i probably missed the beat
i think i slid through the base

I can't remember why i cared
and i'm sure you barely dared
but i think there's something
that's still running
and i can't forget how we fade

fade to the background
fade out the tv
fade out the ink
that is spinning next to me

i think we forget
i think we remember

but I don't think
  i will ever sync

The Balloon Man

There’s a helium shortage but people don’t seem to care:
They want their balloons,
for their parties and celebrations.

They want red balloons, black balloons, green balloons.
For every occasion and gathering.

To tie to the mailbox with ribbon.
To have in the room for kids
to bounce to one another.

The balloon man shuffles through his book of balloons
to see which ones are the most popular right now,
which ones he is running low on.

Get well balloons.

Sadness overcomes him as he thinks about
all the people who are sick and how the balloons might cheer them up
or remind them they are still sick.

Then he thinks about balloons
as a choking hazard,
as kids should really never
play with balloons
but they do anyways.

He prays everyday that the parents are supervising their children with every ballon he sells them,
Balloons always pop.

He wonders if he’s depressed.
He’s been sleeping a lot,
unable to find
the motivation to get out of bed in the morning,
he’s falling behind on his bills –
being a balloon man doesn’t really pay off.

He wonders about the stories of his customers.
What will they do with their balloons?
Let them float into the air?
Wait until the helium is gone and store them forever as a memory?

He waits at his booth in the store
where the customers come for balloons
and he puts his head on his hands.

He doesn’t like balloons.