before you understand meaning,
you understand hunger and hurt.
you understand family and companionship.
rain and sun,
cold and hot,
tired and energized,
pain and pleasure,
everything is right here.

before you learn how to chase time,
you learn how to survive,
how to smile and cry.
when something is there,
when something is gone,
it’s forever.

before you find out you can look back,
you look straight ahead.
your mind has no clouds.
now your eyes are searching for more,
now it must be complicated,
now we’re all dizzy and blind.

do you know how to survive?

this poem is too simple,
i think it needs more.

Does it hurt
when the nature around you
beckons

and you know it all
to be connected

yet you feel so foreign
like the atoms repel you

you are not a ghost like you think

dear host!
i’ve never felt so close!
you have opened up your arms to me
because you never said no
now i’m not afraid to take up space
now i’m free to inhabit you
now it will be sinful of other organs
to invade.

oh host!
i have been here once before
for your body is newer than your concept
for your inviting nature has harbored all walks of life
you have nurtured many sinners in good faith
and i would hate to be kicked out of
my god-given home.

but host!
my kind has fled from place to place,
i’m sure you understand.
my kind has lived for your missing piece.
and i’m sure you can lend some nutrients…
i’m sure you can give up a strip of your flesh.
it’s all natural, you see,
it’s all a part of His plan.

oh host.
push us out, won’t you?
it’s what they all do.
they never understand
my entitlement to this home.
i know it’s not your fault, host.
you’re sacred and inviting.
but your organs are incompatible
with us, why must that be?

hey, host?
do i scare you?
did i bring too many friends?
are we draining you, host?
did we eat too much?
you must understand,
we won’t be full until we eat them all.

lately i have been yearning for
all that is old and to help with
that i wear my thrifted sweater
it has no tags and
has been worn (by someone)
down (by someone)
maybe it has been
taken off (by a lover) i
think about how maybe it was
softer then i think about careers
i could never have
now i think about radio stations
that could ever
be convenient i think
about writing for
movies for poetry magazines
now to work for my own
enjoyment i think about not being
reliant on something that does
everything and nothing
for the earth to keep spinning
cycling around the sun
is all it has to
do i think about my
red sweater softer on
someone else who
was an artist and did not
feel so threatened?