Tanka: Home

Life told in snapshots
Affixed in negative space.
Our home an album;
Photographs far more vibrant
Than the people we’ve become.




Together we wither.
Desperate dysfunctional symbiosis.
Roots wreathe mutual asphyxiation
But we bloom brief, bright
Necrotic ecstasy.
Our small deaths assure me that I’m alive.

Peanut butter lover

He is salt-sweet peanut butter.
He is the contradiction of crunched nuggets nestled smooth in peanut butter.
He is rich dairy and earth nutty, peanut butter.
Palette-conquering and claggy;
Stubborn to the roof of your mouth peanut butter.
In his resistance to comply with dry bread,
Unspreadable, peanut butter.
Sits comfortable on hot toast,
Melts in deep– peanut butter.
Smooths over crumb roughness, peanut butter.
With the lid left off too long;
Top-crusted, coagulated and congealed,
Inconsistent, peanut butter.
In a world of nut allergies, inconsiderate peanut butter.
Rebelliously and unapologetically, he has always been peanut butter.
I let him know I love him,
But I love a lot of things.
Peanut butter.