Tag Archives: Paris

Minor Existential Crisis in a Corn Field in a Small City in Ohio

Tonight the dusk

seems like it will last forever

and the silver crescent

moon is going to hit me on the head

if I don’t duck in time.

But the last paleness leaves the sky

when God spills

an inky black mess

across a beautiful sunset


as an afterthought

decorates with a dash of glittery stars.


I wrap the luxury of my earthly concerns

across my rounded shoulders and exhale and wonder

about my heart and if perhaps I should try to

break it just to see if it still works.


A Friday the 13th massacre in Paris and

yet I had a pretty good day on Friday,

and for this

I am not sure if I am grateful or guilty.