Both Sides

How did it come to be

That no side was right

No side was free

The changes in opinions


What was once truth

Now contempt

Contempt truth

Hold on tight

We are going to need each other

To make it through


Burns Harbor

There is a place

On the magnificent fresh ocean

A sore in the mouth

Of natures waters

Where the air is thick


With flames set back



How the waters lap the shores

Breezing down the sores

Of the Burns Harbor woods

Where the pigs dump toxins

For us all to eat

In our tiny worlds

Where we have no control

On the shores of a lake

Thousands of years



Please, Come Through

Differing Views

Same facts

Different News

Ratchet up the hammers

Bring down the walls

The new man in town

Is coming for us all

The lessons we learned

As kids growing up

I guess were not that important

When push comes to shove

No need to be honest and true

Be pithy and small

Fight dirty and don’t rise above

The world views love with contempt

Hate with affection

How did we get set

In this most deviant direction

What can the individual do

Continue to see our own paths through

When the world seems small

I guess it’s up to me and you

What we will decide when everything around us

Is new

Don’t late hate win

Even though it is what grew

Out of these moments

Stay true to each other

Love and be honest

The best in us

Will always come through

The Old and The New

Old neighborhood

New shops

Old coffee joint

New faces

Same land

New roads

Old places

Where we used to go

The only consistency

Is change

Old setups

Now rearranged

Accept what moves on without you

Accept the little things

And the big ones too

Know that consistency is impossible

Ideally unreliable

Know the new faces

Know the new names

The harder you try to resist

The harder your fall

And more the pain

Words Unknown

Turn down

Where we used to roam

Put down your hands

And hang up the phone

These streets

We used to call our own

But many days have passed

And now it seems distant


The places we used to go

Filled up with words




East of the Calumet

Taking the back road

Coming through

The only way I’ve ever known

Not the glamor

Or the glory

Rather a quiet ride

With a depth of story

Where the rivers run slower

The woods swollen with bugs

Mid summer journey

Through fields and schrubs

The world I know

The world I grew up

Knowing my roots

And giving them love

The stories I’ve heard

People I’ve met

Down on the south side 

Due east of the Calumet