304/365

the clay in which the bougainvillea
grows is sun hard and starting to mold.
grow is an exaggeration and not so much mold
but forming a layer of green algae life
that hints at disease. the leave are an unhealthy
greenish yellow but cling
to spindly branches, blooming to a
timid magenta that barely passes as pink.
we bought this tiny tree together
when you were here and recovering
and keeping alive feels like a heavy vow.
today a giant grasshopper propped
its lanky leg on a languid limb.
other days the butterflies visit,
the nest is gone and the humming birds
are missing in action. what kind of will
is rooted beyond the surface? how our
lives quiver in the darkness in a city
with the moon lurking beyond the buildings.
you are better now and home among the living.
offering advice with a gentle warm smile
as i lay the litany of slights i’m feeling today-
bored in this lengthy bout with perceived calumny.
when i water the bougainvillea a puddle
forms on the clay surface. this can’t be healthy
i muse. but staying alive is often enough.  
it needs a new pot. new soil. expert help.
but what do i know of these things?
what time do i have to mend and heal?
there is a schedule to attend to.
a routine to obey. from where comes
the spark that ignites a change? when did
the awareness to awaken not become enough
to wake up?

45/365

it’s the near misses
that are forgotten
when things
are mundane
and easy.

the breathing tubes
for the first
four days.

the blood
steeped urine.

the crippling
depression.

life is easy
and boring
until it’s not.

standing
alone
in
the
darkness

wondering:

how you can possibly
survive
this latest bout.

familiar noose

martyrdom is such a guilty pleasure
especially when you
put yourself on a pedestal
for the proximity

you have to other people’s pain
you’re so predictable
with your use of crutches
they lied

when they told you
that people change grow
mature you’re still the same
timid boy

you’ve always been
somewhere in the middle you
discovered strategies to keep the madness at bay
music drink words

hard to decipher on tuesday nights
in november at midlife whether
these habits are swaths
of light guiding you through the encroaching

darkness or a familiar noose
don’t be so morbid
you will worry the people
who can’t know these poems are designed

merely to break the glass and dance on the shards
your childrens'
innocence can’t save you now
a reckless compass needle spinning

you don’t know how to say, you’re afraid
someone to keep you safe
no images or metaphor
feel adequate you were meant

to have found your bearings by now
empty glasses
years of bravado
songs you’ve still can’t play

a lifetime of feelings you’ll never name
expectant hopeful
these are the times we dreamt about
all of your empty spaces

allowed to creep and occupy
a pit of ashes before they float away

the opposite empty

the moon doesn’t have to be full
to be loved

neither do you
was a tweet i saw

that reminded me of
an emptiness inside

you me us
of splintered pieces

gaps and spaces
of rambling stories without resolutions

enmeshed in mixed muddled metaphors
are our stories connected or knotted

nets or webs
designed to save or ensnare

like tightrope walkers
and the decaying housefly

where do you start
do i end

mounds of tangled threads
pregnant is the opposite of empty

i don’t know how to set you free
the more i struggle

the tighter the knots
let’s not mistake

this involuntary involution
for wisdom

when did they tell us
we’d have to work this hard

belongings and memories are worthless
compared to the soft sad songs

that make me feel ugly
when all you wanted was for me to be free

Cabal of Cannibals and Lackeys

I woke up feeling good about today. I was up at six with Mairin and the kids, trying to stay out of her way as she got the kids ready and off to school for the millionth day in a row. The mood at our house is not particularly good these days. Everyone is tired and ready for the holiday. We are a routine trying to get to the end. I hobble around mostly trying to learn my new part, come to terms with my irrelevancy.


They were out the door and the house was still. My ankle hurt from the short time I was up and about, so I laid down a bit to give it rest. I knew I had a big day so I shut my eyes and woke up to my alarm at nine. Big day ahead:


I shaved, showered. Got dressed. Changed the sheets and took a cab to the hospital. It was the first time in a while since I was outside on my own. I was hoping for some good news from the doctor, but the news was very middle of the road- healing well. No infection. Good that I can put some weight on it, recommends another week to ten days of rest! A week to ten days?!?!


I haven’t seen, let alone talked to, another person besides Mairin in a week. I need to get out of this house. I arranged with people at work to do at least a half day tomorrow, just to see how it feels. The beauty is that I picked up a wicked little cold between those work emails and my sniffling, sneezing self right now. I may have to abort that mission in the morning. It’s a game time decision right now


My students made a super cute card for me which they gave to Kaia to bring home. Which was nice. Other than that, I might as well have disappeared. The world seems to function just fine without any input from me. This has been a good lesson is being realistic about ones real value. No one is irreplaceable and everyone is expendable. Not a bad lesson to learn. Takes the pressure off. Take a day. Two, hell take a whole week, the ship will sail on.


The rest of the day was McDonalds, Bojack Horseman and swimming while drowning down the Trump Twitter feed. That photo with him and Romney will haunt my dreams tonight. It is the epitome of American politics. I don’t know where his tiny little hands are in the picture, but I am sure under the table he is grabbing Mitt by the….What a bunch of jackals. They disgust me. This government will be a pit of vipers and thieves gouging on the flesh of the people they duped.


I feel sad for the rally crowds. They might not be smart enough to see it yet, but any day now they will realize that they have been run over by the very train that was meant to take them to the promise land. That train is moving so fast that they won’t even be able to pick up the scraps that the billionaires throw from the side. The rally crowds will be left chanting and lusting for blood. I just feel bad for the people of color living in their communities that will bare the brunt of their dissatisfaction and shame.


Ugly times ahead America. The orange prince is slurping down frog’s legs and scallops at Jeane George’s while Tweeting lie after lie, as he build his cabal of cannibals and lackeys. Goldman Sachs is there as they always as they chase the mighty dollar while the rest of struggle to stay free in the greatest democracy on earth.


I don’t know if this is the Thera-Flu talking or my cagey solitary brain, but I need some company and a good time. What a way to the end the year. Hope to see a few of you in the morning.

Long and Grey and Uneventful

Yesterday felt like a step, a hobbled one perhaps, but a step nonetheless in the right direction. I was feeling hopeful and ready to put the month of November and most of 2016 behind me.


Today? Not so much.


I never bathed. Never got out of my pyjamas. Woke up in a state of confusion well after 10am. Gave up quickly after trying to mark a few grade 6 stories. I got lost in the Twitter Trump-pit. (The dude is now RTing from the accounts of 16 year olds, and showing off his new hat.)

How are we going to survive as a nation without all wanting to tear our eyeballs out every few hours? The ugly American is real, he is everywhere and he is in charge of some pretty important shit.

I let it all get me down.
I tried to turn of the noise and focus on Bojack Horseman, but that only carried me so far.
The day was long and grey and uneventful. My ankle was throbbing, but I forced it to walk around the house a few times in silence.


I felt a heavy dense sense of shame and uselessness when Mairin and the kids got home. Is this what they mean when they say rest is good for you? Because I am ready to be back in the swing of things.


I am sorry for saying that I was tired.
I just want to be at the meetings and planning the lessons and shooting the shit at lunch time. I want to see the smiling faces of kids as I teach them things they could care less about.


Tomorrow is another day. Some big things happening: I will shave. I will shower and actually put on “outside” clothes. I will take a cab to the hospital and hopefully get the okay from the doctor for more mobility.

We Are Winning: Alone

I put some weight on my right ankle today and I have been able to walk about a little without my crutches. This feels like a miracle seeing that a few days ago, I couldn’t even think about adding any pressure to it.


I watched The Raiders win their ninth game of the season. It was closer than I would have liked in the end, but it was a W and I still can’t believe the season we are having. I can’t remember a time, ever in my life, when watching the Raiders has ever been so satisfying. We are good. We are winning and people are talking about how good we are and how we are winning. 9-2!


I got a bit of work done. I realized that I have a lot of marking to do. Marking I had forgotten about. Marking that would make sense for me to start doing tomorrow as I lay around in bed. Suddenly the rest that was so boring, feels so far away.


I had two extended naps today and I ate pizza in bed for lunch. A few Bojack Horseman episodes rounded out the digital portion of my day. I’m out of pills, which doesn’t really matter because I am not sure they were actually doing anything.


I feel like I am disappearing here piece-by-piece, breath by breath. Not to be hyperbolic, but I haven’t seen another person in almost a week and the extrovert in me misses your attention. The occasionally private message is nice, but I am learning to manage the loneliness of recovery. I can’t help but think about Jason’s strength over the last twenty years. He, unlike me, doesn’t want or need this attention, but I owe him a line: You are the strongest person I have ever known in my life. I have seen and felt your strength and admire it beyond anything a simple word like love can ever capture. Thank you for guiding me through my life with your strength.


I’m reading the Bruce Springsteen bio because Chris insisted that I read it and I am loving it. I am listening to Nebraska as I type these words and excited to learn more about an artist I know little about.


The political world is so absurd these days that it is hard to take seriously, but I read articles today about the plans for the federal government jobs and it is clear that things are about to get very grim for these United States. I just hope that you people living there, can survive these next four years and begin to rebuild the shit show that is coming. I am too tired right now to address this issue and the work required at the moment, but it is on my mind and I hope to get to it soon enough.


We are a few days away from the end of yet another year and December has never been an easy time for me. Excited that as it approaches, I feel like I am on an upward swing.


Looking forward to getting rid of this mustache. This year it has been a mark of sadness and I won’t even be at school on the last day of celebration. Just a quiet shave and goodbye.


Tomorrow is another day and I look forward to seeing where it takes us all. I miss you all. Today was the 333rd day of the year by the way.