Posts for June 14, 2022 (page 7)

Know this:
you are prepared.
Upon entering,
take a breath.
Remember
the toolbox
you have paid dearly
for in therapy. You
have hiked Yosemite 
in the dark.
You have given birth
on multiple occasions
under un-
natural circum-
stances.
You are not
without resources.
Topiary 
has been on the tip
of your tongue
since Edward
Scissorhands. Some
of the horrors 
you encounter
will be real. Others
will be pure-
ly imaginary.
The woman in the bath-
tub will fright-
en you be-
yond belief. But
you have this.
You have done this before. 

There’s a painting
of a cow bone on the wall
of the bathroom and
india tile lines the stall
with its cistern waterfall.
My feet, touching the slate
cut by untouchables, rest
in the pool and let go the heat
of steel toed boots. 

This aqueous state soothes
my soul with its slow pour
over my poor crown. I stand
on this earthen surface
and consider how the stone
in this dark and shaded place
holds it cool. I stay and stay
until distant thunder pulls
me out, bow to the cow bone,
towel off
and look out the grotto window
to a northern view: soft fescue
and locust trees all the way
to electric poles on U.S. 62

Moments I’ve felt most loved
happened somewhere outdoors,

sun soaking into my skin
baking in tenderness,

a connection to the clouds and
breeze pushing them gently overhead.

Usually, there was water,
a pond or lake or stream,

the serenity of birds and frogs and insects
calling in the background,

a hand brushing my arm, tucking hair
behind my ear, patting my back,

honeysuckle overwhelming us all.

they say money can’t buy happiness
but it can buy groceries

they say study what you want
but there are always “better” fields

they say do what you love
but that’s not a “real job”

they say seize the day
but there is violence and sickness out there

they say be who you are
but in a conservative society you must conform

so what happens when you realize people betray their thoughts
in what they say

The double-edged sword I shattered the mirror with falls to the ground. 
It stays among the shards of glass wondering what it did wrong.
It killed the monster, it did everything right,
so where’s it’s love and affection? 
It didn’t follow every order, obey every command, just to be abandoned. 
I apologize to the sword, and know if I don’t leave it with the mirror my soul will be next.

If you call this ending “bittersweet” I will disagree.
It’s okay to look back and breathe a sigh of relief.

Sometimes endings are only bitter,
Sometimes they are just sweet–

It’s okay to savor the honeyed conclusion. 

your lover’s body got caught in,
called your lover the sooty,
soothing ground of your burial.  

Your tongues became three-piece suits,
all stiff and unexpressive, I mean,
and your breaths floated somewhere  

so far away you thought
you’d never catch it.

A cowboy in a ball cap croons acoustic covers in the corner
His eyes closed to the noisy bar, you know his mama heard him singing to the truck radio and  said “my boy, you’re gonna be famous”.

A twisted sister sits at the bar
Pink stockings, leopard print on her shoulders.
One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor, giggling to the jokes only she can hear.
Leaving a trail of salt behind she takes her bags and stumbles to her gate

Tall handsome blue eyes buys the drinks and we share intimate details to pass the time.
Kids and tattoos,
Stories of checking boxes on our respective midlife crises we make safe connections during our connection.
With a handshake and awkward hug he heads to Ohio

And I wait for the next stranger to take a seat

Deconstructs my front yard
with every flake sticking
to branch tree leaf stone
grass hollow and hole
working hard to obscure
hope  

But the birds
keep leaving tracks
slices impressions scars
surfacing seeds below
snow

with no mountains
only stumps
they climb what they can