five nostalgic haikus

My childhood home

seven trees

staring at fresh earth

The path to the lake

worn with scars

from fighting forest

The lake where I

learned to think

is not a photo-op

I loved her then

unaware

of well faded ghosts

Don't think of her or

the house by 

the lake anymore

Chivalry

I spent the summer of my senior year

indoctrinating myself

with the words of one Charles Bukowski.

And though I tend to write with his signature cynicism,

I couldn't quite bring myself

to write the good fuck poem.

Tempted by the allure of untouched material,

I found myself torn

between chivalry and Bukowski.

Now thumbing through his beer stained words,

I find myself coyly pleased

not to be such an asshole.

Dear Stranger

It is on our favorite mistakes that

we allow our finest regrets to hang

*

( In theory, I would have

loved to love you.

But with reality crashing in

and the alcohol fading out

we drift like parentheses in space

An open wound

A story started

A book never to be closed