Other

I finally found my place here in the world --
A human not so human, so it seems --
An analyst among strategic minds,
Fragmented world sewn up in rhyming dreams.

I now know why nothing can touch my wrists,
Why lukewarm food is plenty hot enough,
Why I like eggs, but can't stand scrambled eggs,
And why bare feet find most ground much too rough.

I'm arrogant in my humility
And crowds of people overwhelm my soul --
Because I feel so overwhelmed by all
I meet, the feelings often take their toll.

I never knew quite where I fit. My son
Helped me discover who I am. I'd find
By learning who he was just how I thought
With this high-functioning autistic mind.

The Geography of Nostalgia

I long for the familiarly unfamiliar --
A small city I lived in that has changed
While remaining familiar here and there --
An old green house, a stone-faced church,
A city square that lies about remaining
Unchanged -- the coffee house, the restaurant
Are new and still familiar. I tire
Of this changing changeless city --
The construction at the conjunction of
635 and 75 gone on
For far too long while the Starbucks
Remains the same, with the same people
There, and all the different identical
People working at the store (excepting those
Who are the same -- for four years now).
And the one place I want to stay
The same has changed -- the changed
Interior of my childhood home
Makes even the unchanged exterior
Feel indescribably different --
Though the bricks, the trees, the grass remain
The same. And yet I do not miss
My Mississippi home of two years --
I do not long for it, whether it
Changes or remains unchanged. So I
Do not know what it is I miss,
The familiarly unfamiliar I somehow long for.
I do not know, but I long to be there.

The Grub

My son comes running. "Mommy, Daddy! Come
And see!" We see a hole dug in the yard
Before we see what's in the hole. What could
A four year old dig up? We are on guard.

There, in the shallow hole, a writhing grub --
Long, thick, and white, short hooks up near its head,
Its head with angry eyes of orange and jaws
To make an ant or mother look with dread.

My wife recoils, steps back, covers her mouth.
My son says, "Look!" and gestures down. A lull,
My wife says, "That's disgusting!" But my son
Looks up, concerned, says, "No, it's beautiful."

Together

If I were single I would live alone,
Just reading books. If I could live alone

I'd spend each evening at the Starbucks, drink
A coffee, write, and think, "Will I live alone

Without a love?" And I would then go home
To my apartment where I'd live alone.

But since I found you, dear, I read my books
And write -- but I don't have to live alone

To think and work. I'm more myself since I
Embraced you, love, so I don't live alone.

I melt into your arms, your eyes when you
Say, "Troy, with me you'll never live alone."

Lichen

Embracing me you ground me and the stone
Dissolves to feed us both as with the sun I feed
Us both, and thus we never are alone,
But symbiotic, transformed into waves
Of color rippling in the light. Who craves
Another as we do, yet fills each need?

And when the winter comes and all the leaves
Lie littered, layered, rotting in the sleet
And frost, the safety that your network weaves
Will comfort me, and you will dine upon
All I produce -- our love will warm us, spawn
Delight in us, create internal heat.

The two of us will feast upon the bark,
The stones, the leaves, transform the sun to live
Together, two become one flesh, our mark
In colored bans throughout the woods. We'll drink
The morning fog and tap the frost. Each chink
We fill is so you I, I you can give.

Rainbow Bunting

By all accounts the feathers on
Its wings belong on angels' backs,
Regardless of the dewy dawn
Delivering the sun's golden tracks.