good morning, rhinoceros

we debated what sound a
rhinoceros would make.
you said it was something
guttural like: nerahnerah.

i thought it might be more
breathy and mellow, i
demonstrate as i squat,
something like: ptuffptuff.

turns out rhinos and
especially baby rhinos
make a sound that's more
like a strange squeak.

and while we sleep during
these early summer mornings
the geese wake us, a
cacophony of honkatonks.

we giggle in bed and
as i snuggle closer
you whisper into my hair
and it sounds like


.

Open letter to my first muse

A friend of mine once said
Happiness is a choice.
Her mother died, and
today with her taste for meth
she can’t keep a job.

In her spare time she
trips while watching the sun
slip behind the small ranch
house where she rents a room.

She paints the orbs of colors
she sees past the naked eye,
splashing her canvas and
scratching an itch.

At thirteen, we’d get high
in the wooden house frames
of new developments springing up
around our suburban neighborhood.

Laughing and dancing we would
cover the unfinished walls
with lines of poetry.
Those days the colors we saw
were colors enough.