I’m not what you think;
I’m smart and stupid in ways
you might not expect.

photo: Today is a good day

to the bug I crushed:
it was nothing personal,
just a cruel reflex.

photo: the flat character

chirping crickets blend
with the honeysuckle breeze;
roll the windows down.

is identity
the height to which we aspire,
or the ground we tread?

carrying the torch:
a symbol of sportsmanship
or oppressive rule?