In between the long articles I’m sure should be books and the songs I write in the hopes of selling (even though I can’t play any instrument for shit), I write bits of what I guess you could call poetry, and prose.


We ignorantly dance among one another

our fields of cyberspace overlapping

but seldom interacting.

Coming close

but elbows never brush.

Aware of each other, but

keeping distance anyway

Either afraid to make the first

step to reconnect

or not interested

at all.

Maybe now and then

we’ll exchange likes

write a few comments

but never need for a direct message.

“Hey how are you?

It’s been a long time

where has life taken you?” Why bother?

I’ve seen where life has taken you, you’ve seen where it’s taken me. I may not know how you feel about me after all these years but I hope all is well.

And if I could do it all over again, I would’ve probably been your friend. A real friend.


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