from bed, do you know?

you couldn’t give me a straight answer

i stuck around chain smoking cigarettes, crushing butts into metal ashtrays marking the movement of time

leaving me with a fitful night sleep and stained fingers

wishing i had found another way to slow your goodbyes to a drawn out stutter that i could complete for you…


your greeting with a grimace-frustrated face had you give up on trying to erase the words i inserted to keep you close

i never wanted to watch you disintegrate into a pool of leftover thoughts

waiting for me to grab a mop and wring out your memory into water muddied by wishful questions

that we’ll never move on from

from a couch, speak to me

stand and deliver the sermon you were sent to serenade us with on a mountain built to rise above the pathetic-life platitudes that dribbled from hedge-fund hoes betting for a secure future full of uncertainty to those they pretend to protect

raise your voice over the echoes from the valley below full of window dressed men with barbed wire mouths hoping to take another step towards sisyphus’s demise

i’d find comfort pushing senseless stones endlessly in an effort to drive out those needing the next thing

i found a rhythm with my broom, sweeping streets littered with lost souls seeking sunrise in paper bags and garbled thoughts

who am i to declare anything

the thought alone gives weight to a world crushing Atlas, without a map we lose our way home

where will we go?

your words cease when understanding is drowned in the ocean you slipped into while realizing, no one was listening

from bed, unlike the others

plucked, still shivering from the shock

gently observed, now dropped

slaloming through subtle air currents

resting on imitations

feet shuffling through fields filled with fear

shift the pile of clones

creating a new order, without emotion

as shades are slowly drawn on day

from the porch, the stars at night are big and bright

put them on display like marie o’day

a traveling freak show of our forever frozen-in-fear children’s bodies captured behind glass

we’ll pay our quarter and gasp

will we find the answer?

as they continue to be riddled by bullets from the sphinx’s arms, can they enter our institutions without having to guess who is on all fours and who walks down hallways holding an end to their innocence, not lost, taken, never to be regained?

one last wrinkle from the protector of Thebes tongue, ‘he slithers on his belly after lunch’

these displays are not an anomaly

nothing to stare at stupefied

they’re genetically modified like the rest of us

a mirror in her casket would prove to be interchangeable

next to the werewolf man, just as believable

our fears

in arranged viewing areas for us to examine

school buildings charging admission for us to safely discover what keeps us up at night when our imaginations are made tangible, agreed upon breeding grounds left to their own devices

desires to smash mores established for greed, desires for their moms to fulfill their needs

and dad’s to stand up, before another one bleeds

and joins the circus

from bed, tired words

another friday came

we relaxed on cushions set out to comfort the fall from a week when your guardian angel took a break

why’d you go?

what was the place you sought when dangerous days dangled before us daring dancing darling pixies to take another stab at pictures i hold onto while lights flicker and shadows bounce off walls with pealing paint soaked in smoke stains and greasy breakfast fights

saturday will greet the sun

i’ll rise and wonder how i got here

your passing defined my sleep patterns

i couldn’t escape your smile

seared in every crease my brain formed to try to forget

from the porch, i forgot how

a part of it is, i don’t remember

i can’t trace the sequence of dance steps that led us to this disillusioned state staring at statues that led us to this place of deserted rhythms

the loss of a heartbeat

still life seeking solitude when up against fates knife


distancing ourselves from reconciliation

worries dissipate

sorrows meditate

the taste of your breathe finding a way to my memories

it’s over now, the present straddles dawn break, and leaves wonder in its wake

this i’ll take

and forget how i got here

from bed, our last supper

leftover chicken for dinner

i knew how much i was cooking

what i could eat

it wasn’t left over

there was no one in the seat across from me

i chased you away with worries, monsters concocted during day light dreams



blank stares

bacon consistency never remembered

what size of spoon you use, for cereal and ice cream

i stopped guessing and brought both

or, sometimes, i left the drawer open and said ‘in here’

you got the hint

i regretted dropping it, shattering silence with a clang, as your uncles’s gift forks fell to the floor, your final sigh closing the door, i looked around


free to explore

what to listen for

when the neighbors stop arguing