the phone rings
I admit
my biggest secret

secret smoke break
spying my wife down
a shot

from the mouth of babes
I extract
Daddy’s secret

slow lunch hour
the owners speak
in their native tongue

a crisp clear night
walking side by side
feeling so invincible

backyard sprinkler
a leaf spirals
into late summer

compact mirror
safely tucking away
her many moons

cemetery at dusk
our daughter touches
your engraved name

mirrored sunglasses
shirtless Frisbee players
i stare

crippled man
looks forward to my presence
rummy time

gasping for air
I hold my breath,
please flush . . .

orange butterflies
sharing the trip
back from lunch

one day at a time
my father’s copy
drunk driving

retirement home
my grandson visits
for money

goodnight kiss
my dad and I acting
sober

sunlight dances
on the carpet
she didn't say yes

starry sky
she undresses
at gunpoint

doorknob turns
the smell of alcohol
dad's home

woman who says
life is too short
watches butterflies

a crowded CTA train
everyone hears
no one listens

stink goes unnoticed
until my neighbor
apologizes for it

she waits for the text
not paying attention
to his motives

casting stones
into a stagnant pond
alone together

my prom king
asks to dance
with the girl next to me

endless conversation
the river runs
through my fingers

late night walk
i trip over that same
bump in the sidewalk

asphalt baking
the squirrel’s tail
ruffled by the wind

a starless sky
on a warm summer night keeps
my secrets