Tuesday, September 15, 2015


I keep change in a mason jar by my bed,
because it is inevitable
                     & if it is going to happen
                     I might as well embrace it, like a long lost friend
                     not the one that keeps coming around
                     after stealing your lover,

which is fucked up,
cause you still smell them on your pillow,
but try to picture them & all you get is that friend's face,
going down on them,
                     wash your sheets all you want,
                     it's not going away & one night stands
                     are momentary placebo pills

Every day I find pennies in parking lots,
cast off as worthless, in mud puddles & those slick spots
where oil drips on the way to overheating
our engines.
                     We don't like small change.
                     Pretend it doesn't mean much. Don't want the weight
                     in our pockets, to throw off our walk
                     & there are so few wishing wells.

They clink
in my jar all the same & build up, to big change,
over time. My father once filled one of those plastic water jugs
people lean on at work and it was almost a thousand dollars.

I learned the value of common sense,
of saving what no one else wants.

On Saturday,
I found a buck - fifty in dimes & quarters
on the asphalt

"Didn't you see this?"
I said to a group of younger strangers, twenty feet in front
of me.

"Yeah, But."

We don't like change. Perhaps that is why we capture moments
in digital grandness, so we can remember what it was like
before, but every time we look at them
it is evident -

Your hair was longer then, had more curl,
our bodies were sun kissed, moon kissed, dusk & dawn kissed,
and everything in between // before autumn came
like a wind you can't see but pushes


There were rocks we sat on,
so big & unmoving, and the trees still had leaves
that were not leaving

I like to lay on the roof of the building
because the stars are ever moving & every once in a while
they wink out - I don't want to miss them,

I don't want to miss anything,

but I do,
it's a ritual,

each night I put my shoes away,
take my belt off & empty my pockets.

I put my daily change in the jar,
listen to the music of it falling into community
with all that came before it

before the lights go out
& I crawl into bed,

my head sinking deep
into the pillow.


  1. Small change adds up -- whether in terms of coins or in the changes that happen in life. Daily change in a jar, daily change in routine. The clink perhaps is imperceptible to those observing, but over time..... And yes, the digital version doesn't lie. Changes are noted, recorded...slowly everything changes.

  2. "clink" - what a great way to anchor your poem

    you are one gritty writer x

  3. Ah.. those were the days, now the cash is gone. I used to save it in a piggybank and give to my nieces and my nephews.. every year a little bag of coins.. but now, I never use cash.. I have my phone or my credit card... and there is change in change, in that I only see it in the bankstatements.. I wonder if the beggars would ask me to put in their bank-accounts soon.. There is an app for that.

    1. That is kind of a scary thought on the beggars having apps to get donations

  4. I think that we all have such habits...
    Good one!

  5. Your hair was longer then, had more curl,
    our bodies were sun kissed, moon kissed, dusk & dawn kissed,
    and everything in between // before autumn came
    like a wind you can't see but pushes


    My mom saves money in a Mason jar that way and every year uses it as an X-mas fund she saves quite a lot that way. I went clothing shopping one year on just loose change. I find much much less change here in Sweden, I think in 5 years I have seen money only once on the ground. I always use my change for shopping because I have no credit card.


  6. Small change and passing time... You intertwine the fabric of the everyday into this beauty, I like your young memories...

  7. This is both blunt and achingly beautiful.. Helluva write.

  8. Those small changes can add up to a big one ~ I specially admire this part:

    I put my daily change in the jar,
    listen to the music of it falling into community
    with all that came before it

    Love the title and unique slant on changes X ~

  9. Some of the best poetry I've ever read here--really, anything I could say would be lame or patronizing--you are cutting to the sheer bleeding heart of things.

  10. Agree with Hedge--a very poignant moving poem--vibrant and tragic in its details, and so humanly spoken. k.

  11. The change of the jar, pockets, and daily life become a habit of ours.

    The best poetry I've read, this my friend is outstanding and sheer brilliancy.

    I'm back from my hiatus.

    Stop by my page and read my new poem my friend. :)

  12. X-Man, you have scored multiple baskets with this, another winner in a lexicon of brilliance that are your words, & the shots are all net. Grace snagged /music of it/ in a jar, metal plinking reggae against tuneful glass. There may be more than 200 words here, but I dig each one.

    1. Thats ok. I do not link in, so I dont have to follow the rules. Ha.

  13. Oh.. X.. words of wisdom
    a small change jar
    of words..
    a dime of reason..
    but feeling change
    is beautiful as sunset
    red.. 'cause when emotions
    go away.. and beauty and
    all those 'hypothetical'
    things.. we find
    how real
    they are
    back to
    of beauty..

    Hmm.. that's almost
    'good' enough to
    and change..
    you are so
    i shall

  14. one night stands
    are momentary placebo pills - How true. And sad.
    Things in the past did seem more permanent. As we get older we realise nothing in this world is permanent. 'most everything is temporary. Even one's change becomes less and less as prices increase. Also we are more comfortable in the old things we know and remember. Change though is inevitable... people... things...