This is the first poem in the newest collection I'm putting together. I've made this available only to the people on my mailing list as a preview of some of my more recent work. Keep in mind this is a work in progress, but please feel free to send me any questions of thoughts you might have, I'd love to hear from you.

Tomorrow's Tomorrow

Laying on my bed


at the end of freedom


Phone clutched deftly in my hand 

           Lifeline and Garrot.

It pings me, 

                    telling me I have friends and I matter


Colorful images flash before me, a parade of curated lives

                       Curated dreams

           Curated nightmares

of friends I haven’t seen in months insistently pressuring me to listen 

                                                                                                                and see 

                                                                                                                and judge myself

                                                                                                                but not them

                                                                                                                never them.

           While I sit alone and dream of tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow

           A day when I may be more like them, 

                                              more like their picturesque lives and phantom souls

           When I can forget that I am here 


           on the last day before tomorrow and the rest of the days after that.


Another ping from my phone, another dreamy vision of life. 

                                                 another reminder that I am less then them

                                                 my life is less interesting, less fun


And already I dread tomorrow’s tomorrow, the talk of travels and parties 

                         Parties that I was never invited to

on the first day of classes, on the first day of high school


Ping. A picture of the sun and laughter. Ping. A picture of people and fire. Ping. The ocean waves at sunset. Ping. Group selfie. Ping. Selfie. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping.


                         I join the herd or selfies, 

                                       no good

                         Another and another and another

                                       No. no. no.

                         They look lame, looks like I’m trying to hard, 


                                                 to be noticed

                                                 to be cool

                                                 to be the me that everyone will like

                         This one—the lights good, I’m smiling, I look fun—#selfiesunday

                                                 I look fun right?

                                                 Will people think I’m lame because I’m alone?

                                                 Will people think I’m a loser?

                                                 Will people think?

                                                 Will people care?


                                                 Do I want them to?


Ping. Ping. Comments. Ping. Ping. 

             — “Cool pic” — #slob — #seeyousoon —

I didn’t look at the background, my rooms a mess, my life’s a mess

             — #whatnottowear — #hate — #stand^2bullies —


                                                 Summer changes nothing.

                                                 School will change nothing.


                        Text a friend—a real friend—no answer.

1:00 am — sleep and dread tomorrow’s tomorrow again.