Photo (c) 2013 Jolene OBrien

Unless your bucket list is in pencil
Unless you’re content in front of your television
And your eyes see better than your heart does
If you heard on the radio that intellect killed hope
And read on the message board that we never needed hope in the first place
Unless you see unfiltered
And the light in your eyes is not a reflection of anywhere you’ve been
If there is nothing out there
And you’ve seen it before anyway
Take note:

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A Seed Grows Where It Falls

I was thinking the other night over a cigarette about how I sometimes wish I would’ve ended up somewhere else. Dan said, “We all wanna be somewhere else than where we live, but that’s not reality it’s just point of view.” And as I smoked, I looked at the old maple tree across the path, and put two and two together. And by pitying the tree, being stuck where it is, I found a metaphor to pity myself.


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Where Were You?


This morning there were
Men fishing in the park
With wide, red hats
Fishing club, I guess

Grandmother and child
Walking a bridge
With a sun-umbrella
Colors as vivid as the

Yellow gosling feathers
Trailing their parents
In the pond

Scraped knees at the
Base of a steep hill
Wincing and cursing
At bent bicycle tires

Pair of married flip-flops
Stood smoking cigarettes
Crying and comforting
One another

Wrinkled camerawoman
Twirling underneath
The canopy of trees
Capturing the dappled light

Where were you?