i miss you
every night
wondering why this break
seems necessary
escaping discipline
wandering eyes
undressing disguises
while truth waits underneath the prehistoric wings of a sycamore tree
posted thick and high, between red rock slot canyons, a graying sky, whispering afternoon breezes drop, absorbed in dark water ripples
carrying songs
changing sounds, voices compound
still water waits
pooled to welcome mornings chill
how does it end?
who really wants to know?
it’ll only destroy pathways where we push, pull, and grow
flip to the last page?
no idea why
purpose, a repeated ritual sky
what do we seek while meandering our way to a maintained middle
there is no finale, finally
no diner scenes
no loved characters dying in back alleys
no dimming of lights
saying goodbye
choppers heading east, there’s more pain waiting at home
seems hopeless
nothing to achieve
deal again
more cards up my sleeve
milestones, markers, bar mitzvah, nuts dropping, transformative moments to those who notice
those partaking
those affected
i write without guard rails
i write to tell our tales
i write to disguise us as one another
i write to separate pain in the egg where we developed and begged, to begin again
without an end
this can’t be it
i’m still here
holding onto a number
waiting in line
the glass almost broke but bounced
i wasn’t sloppy, clumsy
never quite knowing where my hands flip as thoughts distance me from physical realities
i’m in a chair, living through concocted histories of humans i’ve never met
nevertheless, i bumped into you, a weak grip threw, the last bits of your beer in his face
he was innocent
as much as the rest of us
making sense of collective company
i picked it up
flushed face from the sound
and regained my composure
until the next story is found
chanting three letters
draped-cloth racism
a lot like our flag
not the one i wave
hijacked mud-flaps
which one?
bars or stripes?
nuts or calvin?
your choices, representative past
you elected to pass, on education
teachers, waited
still do
perspectives lost to echos bouncing from khaki rubbed legs, mythic walls, holy grills, torches, and white skin
freedom, runs contrary to every dim-lit corner of your mind where excuses cast shadows
everyone else?
that’s your defense?
fingers fly out of your hands
“Party of four for Responsibility. Responsibility? Party of four?”
you didn’t come to eat with us, you sat outside, glass-pressed-flat faced
taking a knee
pointing up
it’s a big difference
to you
when someone else looks down
from the same position
winter precipitation falling, you can’t handle the cold, individual geometric beauty scares you to your car
safely wrapped in AM dial voices
inside, we discuss frost, and mending walls, a question befalls us all, how tall?
never mind
it’s already built, metaphorics
you’re keeping yourself out
pounding your head to the resounding, rebounding of three letters you said
strapped to a bed, feeding the thread you used to weave a fabric of lies
disguised
as something we all share
it’s not yours
or mine
zeroes and ones hide you, from me, and me, from you
this isn’t us, a three letter chant, we can all join in, if those three letters, are understood, and i realize
you could have written this about me
your job is to ask tough questions
we’ve been taught not to answer
someone from the other side
breathing in and out cancer
cells multiplying rapidly, empathy paralyzed
perspectives dizzy when i turn my head
stay forward
horse parades
don’t spook the hatred
hoof beats pound forgotten dirt, demanding attention
it’s used up
passion poured out to disposes the drifters who were led without knowing
another path exists
home life excuses
tempting nooses
hanging tree galleries
branches bending, we’re all grafted
one seed
breaking, with the slightest breeze brought across seas, caught in wind pouring from your inquiries, we forgot how to address, critical diseases
critical, we need them
complete your task
i’ll formulate a response, they’ll never know
i tried
i leaned with one leg up against wooden nail-riddled boards resting on a metal pole-shed, no one within miles, we just crossed the kansas line, i lit a cigarette and handed one to you
you were crouched, distant, without mind
pulling your hair back
one side at a time
squinted eyes
releasing with a puff, you rise
our song came on
we sang along
“stand here, (k)nowhere we’ve been
wrestling with sorrow that begs us to begin
again
running, finally a purpose
driven, beginnings always alter us
i won’t ever drift this far away again
i won’t tell you it’s you
it’s always me, again
pushing you away
hoping that you’ll stay, again”
we inhaled, looked down, and back up, averting eyes
“caverns of this sorrow i can’t escape
i see you up there…i can’t relate
come rescue me from this ruined fate
creaaaaaaaate
my morning stars…”
our eyes glaze
“…a moon that guides, it’s never near or far, a spiral destined to show us where we are
souls
crashing cars
that intertwine
reasons
we can’t decline
just stand here
let you be mine
again
again
and again”
your face turns to the car
“who’s drivin’?”
recognize
every
desire
don’t deny the side-eye
straight on
no mystery
curiosity
what comes next
i’ll save you the time
and vanish
drifting down settled-ground pathways stopping at the next town, making friends, gathering questions
i’ll leave lingering-lapsing stares with my good byes as i feign surprise it’s my time to supervise the situations that leave my droopy-mouth eyes resting on shadows cast on passer-byes who can’t make out the contours imprinting, lastingly, the lines where smiles used to glide without tension confusing my life, the beauty in simple motions guiding me from here to you, never noticing the differences, we nod, lazy minds prevail, the mind-numbing day’s spent wondering where we’d go after they discovered it’s a rehearsed show, every punchline stuck on repeat, rising on feet never meant to greet the fallen crest of fantasies we soared to when childhood dances didn’t know the difference in the way we looked at one another
read
every
denial
her fingers felt funny for the first time
sometimes they’d make me laugh
mostly with one extended behind my father’s back
he always thought you were sweet
his word
not mine
i knew how that would twist and be redefined, years of college classes exercised
more so, listening when people speak
this “funny”, a newly-felt-defensive word, unease, an end near
prior, there were long strokes, wrist to unattended biceps, chin to cheek bone, i’d wince, you’re the only one who could invade my space, alone, trying to concentrate on the intention, not the sensation, a grown up tone, not teenage moans
those would come
i’d have to make sure it was you
cat-scratch back, i pretended to nap
you know i never could
this isn’t a longing poem
i’ve written enough of those
what could have been
what will be
will be
your movie ending reminded me of that
que sera
sera
sera
que?
they felt funny because i finally understood, you were connecting without a finality goal, prolonging the pull of unseen forces, no remorses
they felt funny, because i finally felt, how you feel
that’s why i do it
to ruin the equation
nothing adds up
unless you’re apt to persuasion
i could convince you, we’ve changed
the drilling in my brain
it’d be a lie
starving reality, death to morality, let’s bludgeon the sky with scared-straight souls whose only goals are to devour enough dollar signs to know they need more
i do it to punish them
it’s that
or us
spots in my memory
i’ve spent too much time focusing on the negative spaces, bridges between gaps
failing to recognize us
stumbles between shutter snaps
less encumbered by what restrained smiles and carefree denials brought, when we were spontaneous, without warning
curious
left yearning
exercise those recollections
picture book romance
divided into sections
beginning
middle
end
transitions don’t exist, framed explanations for why
reel back, it’s worth while
piled up resentments, towered over yesterday’s smile-wide dream
knock it down
we can’t restart
continue
turn the corner where we fell away, frailty
okay
spots aren’t deserted
balance
for where we’ve been
my morning stream 