I switched to soymilk

because the milk that comes from cows
and comes in gallons
spills everywhere the first time you remove
the plastic safety seal.
After so many years you learn not to cry,
desensitized. It happens every week.

It was strange tonight. You said you weren't happy
and I, forever away, folding laundry,
knocked a bowl of what had formerly contained
raisin bran and only then contained milk.
I jumped at the cold splash and my newly soiled tshirts
prepared for their second trip to the washer today.

It has nothing to do with clothes.
Nothing to do with clean. Perhaps
something to do with thirst.
Just... don't cry.

The barista

made a heart of foam in my latte this morning.

I am not sentimental, but I avoided drinking so as to keep it

for awhile.

I sat at a marvelously square table while old friends whispered nearby and I

scribbled something meaningless while the white heart

dissolved—bubbles around it beating—into

the eyes of an owl.

Sometimes these dumb (speechless) things

make our days.

Sometimes I don't even like coffee.

Just thinking, that's all.

 The incredible human ability to reason is what separates us from other forms of life. Faith is by definition the lack of reason, and without reason we are denying the very thing that makes us remarkable as a species.

I often remind myself that animals, though overwhelmingly non-sentient and almost completely instinctual, don't believe in a God, either. They don't know what is "wrong" or "right," they do not operate out of fear for being cast into Hell, they do not ask forgiveness for their "sins," they do not thank anyone or anything for putting food on their proverbial tables. But they also could not ponder origins of the universe, the speed of light, or how to keep a wound from getting infected.

Animals lack faith not because of their smaller brain capacities, but because faith is not necessary to survival, or even (I daresay) to happiness. 

They are simply wandering life forms. The difference is that our brains grew so exponentially quickly that we had to invent a system to explain the universe. Fortunately, after all those beliefs and histories were invented, our brains continued to develop. We are at a point in our existence where there is no necessity for those absurdities in order to have a moral or reasonable concept of the world we occupy.

Evidence is all we ask.

he lives in a glass house
      suspended on a crucifix that
      hangs around his neck,
      tattooed on his forearm.
throwing stones, swallowing
sermons shaped like pills.
They go down so easy, don't they?
Just like thebooksthehistories; the flames tasted them and refused to cough them up...

partake in petrified, pallid
flesh—fresh-squeezed wineblood.
O Lord, the road to salvation is paved with absurdities
and worse, we know they're deadly (serious).

Mid-sentence. (writing exercise)

decided to
run some
tests on
the kiss.
The goal--
scientifically
conclusive
evidence
that he and
I are
definitely
unequivocally

boiled in the
pot--touch
of salt for
time's sake
He opened
his mouth
"is
dinner..."

caught the
dog gazing
upward.
Wolves never
ask, though--
instead they
told you
NOT
to cross the
street yet!
The crows, they'll
 miss their chance;
they have
been
hungry for days
and waiting for
stained with
coffee, his teeth
tasted like tobacco.
This couldn't
be the man I
crept out into the
kitchen, nose
wrinkling in search
of nourishment.
His tail remembers
the cold snap of
syringes filled to
the brink. I never
liked needles to
begin win, but
the FDA
recommends
water bottle, empty,
onto the glass
table, asking for
the name
of the
man she spoke to.
"A friend I
haven't seen in...

the drive shaft lay
dismantled
underneath. That's
why you never trust
a
that, Mommy? that's
what daddy looked
like the other day
when he came home
from
bare-backed ocean,
screaming in
agony.
I remembered
saying this wasn't
a good
left the oven on,"
said the firefighter.
It's completely burned
down, but we can
still

just treading
waters. This is why
we need those
test results back.
I'm just not
convinced we're

Roses

wilt. They poke.
Roses drink and
litter petals. They smell
like rainwater and the color
ain't so bad. But they
refuse to entertain for long.

Potatoes
do not wilt. Boil them
and not only do they survive,
they are tender. Mash them
and they are delicious. Let them
fester for days, and they will
not die. They will grow ever more.

There are much harder symbols
than those we are accustomed.