I Make Music

I Teach Music

I Make Videos

I Teach Yoga

ongoing poem (started spring 2014)

The dead pass on in the rear view mirror
kicked out of the dream lab
Ultra soft and strong
disappearing face
gone without a trace
a passing ice cream truck plays row row row your boat
"Life is but a dream"
frozen out with a hug
everything is wrapped in plastic
belly ache big intestine blues
hernia rap sheet
effective methods practiced
pain removed
Tramadol blues
The rest is boring
daylight mantra
The Baking Soda Kid meets the Cheap Contractors
The less I try, the more I succeed
watching that evening sun go down
discovering the juxtaposition. Yin and Yang
random precision engineering
the city of a trillion moving parts
preparing for sleep again
troubleshadowed youth bust
old frowns at young, hrumphing...
a moment of silence
dark eyes skating by, cigarette in hand
ain't life grand?
A cardinal flits into the brush in a burst of red
back in the seventies my grandmother put a silver dollar inside my birthday card one year. The card arrived, torn open, the coin stolen.
No more -isms!
Venus on a skateboard, ocean eyes glide by
self-destruction as a spectator sport
killing flies: a utilitarian obsession
the things you don't tell your shrink
rolling stone in the home office
but first a word from our corporate overlords
machines are selfish
fake courtesies and phoney currencies
When I was a kid, the site of slots for razorblade disposal (found in the back of bathroom medicine chests from the mid-twentieth century) made me nervous. I envisioned piles of rusty caked razorblades sealed in dark old walls.
raising a spectacle, growing a testicle
kicked out of the band for playing too softly
another mourning growing frosty
living in a time when a DVD seems old fashioned
it's all pics and quips on the Internet now
corralled into self-driving cars, the new drones
tethered to their phones
old farts practice lost arts
picking green beans in a late summer heatwave
Stewed, Screwed, and Tattooed
true blue moon
survival through short-term thinking
spiritual concierge
summer's hum falls silent
I dropped out of college for a couple years. When I returned to school, one of my first assignments was to write a ten page paper on a leader from history. I chose to write about Alexander the Great. I was so excited to be back in school that I got carried away with my research and ended up writing fifty pages. I got a C.
forever lasts a day
murky morning ache
in the documentary of my life they will mention this moment
you have to drop anchor somewhere
deep drafts of storm wind
songs of fire trucks and car alarms
October energy