we sleep as if we are forgetters and then we dream sometimes about ghosts but mostly that we are humans who dream and remember —P.L. Thomas| Selected Poetry
did they tell you the feathers are merely ornamental? that’s to keep you from trying that's to keep you from flying grounded ground into dust • did they tell you you are no bird— or of course we need the babies? need you overfull weighted down • these lies you must carry these lies you … Continue reading grounded (these lies you must come to terms with)| Selected Poetry
I guess I’ve always been a delicate man “Lemonworld,” The National i tiptoe through your garden but it is dark so there will be carnage i should have done this barefoot and in the daylight i realize stepping blindly then i could feel and see this trail of me my silent destructions (other people would … Continue reading the last rest area in Missouri (this trail of me)| Selected Poetry
Our hands are covered in cake/But I swear we didn’t have any “The Geese of Beverly Road,” The National when we are living our calm life our own life just for us and between us does that bother you? no let’s be blunt why does that bother you? it is no skin off your teeth … Continue reading this simple thing our happiness| Selected Poetry
the next time i come i hope you are t/here —P.L. Thomas| Selected Poetry
my father’s fingers brought her sleep “my father moved through dooms of love,” e.e. cummings i wear my father on my sleeves it is a childhood memory specific and vivid as if true my father taught me how to wear a collared shirt properly tucked in carefully rolling up each sleeve three times with the … Continue reading sleeves| Selected Poetry
no Body understands the universe a few never even consider the universe they are lucky many exclaim that they know the Universe they are dangerous others spend their lives trying to understand the universe they struggle to sleep some know only one thing: that they do not understand the universe somehow they sleep the universe … Continue reading the universe (Year 61)| Selected Poetry
The best lack all conviction, while the worst/Are full of passionate intensity. “The Second Coming,” William Butler Yeats the day is blanketed gray the sky the color of smoke the entire world burned until nothing remains except ash i cannot feel anything because i feel everything a tree stripped of bark trunk and limbs the … Continue reading december 2021 prayer| Selected Poetry
autumn is a mother fucker trees all topped in yellows and reds the colors of death before the leaves all fall we gather around smiling “isn’t the foliage beautiful” ignoring the browned leaves crunching as we walk —P.L. Thomas| Selected Poetry
i am one you are too two as one orbiting the sun —P.L. Thomas| Selected Poetry