Show Poem/ Dec. 3, 2021, Lawrence, KS (Replay Lounge): Today I write the poem down

But that doesn’t make it more or less
Than the poetry of any other moment

When I see a silent leaf drifting through
An unseasonably warm December sky
It is no different than a mob of young sexpots
Tearing up a dance floor on a Friday night

Regret is a shortcut for the rich path of uncertainty

It ends where it begins

But it’s sugar has us dipping our tails
Into its sweet and bottomless wells
Chasing our own stories over page after page
Scrolling ahead in a book that has yet to be written

Engage your ass as rudder not a carrot or a stick
Invite the ghost of radical uncertainty
Into your bungalow of shifting sand

Hitch a ride on this wave of destruction
And rejoice in the salty tears
Of unqualified compassion