Kitchen Sink

I didn’t cut the kitchen faucet off

The thought pops in my head as soon as I sit

I’ve never left the water running

But now, I have?

No, I haven’t

I know I cut it off

Besides, I’d hear it running, right?

I cut it off, like always

I won’t check

I won’t check

I won’t

I down my drink and take the empty glass to the kitchen sink





Late nights at the park,

last to leave

Early mornings through the park,

first to arrive

Smell of leather

Freshly mowed grass



Bum knees

Less bummy knees

My knees used to kill me on the court,

nobody asked

They feel fresh on the pavement,

“Don’t runners have bad knees?”

Mid-post fadeaway with the awkward shot

Picking up the pace with my limping trot

Arrhythmic sneaker squeaking

Keeping time with a pair of Brooks

Brain dead, unconscious, in the zone

Chasing the elusive runner’s high

Full court


How many shots in a row

How far or fast I can go

Pass the rock

Other runners


“On your left!”

Painted lines

No boundaries


Cross the finish line