And it’ll go faster than I can keep up
Spin me around in circles
Make me stumble left and right
It makes the days longer
The years shorter
A never ending cycle
That I can’t slow down
and I’m afraid I’ll be left in the dust
Gone with the wind
The signs flying by with my head out the window
Time, won’t you slow down?
Let me stop for gas
and pick out a magnet
Let me sip my tea
and the sun stay resting on my skin
Just a little longer
Flood waters recede. Listen
past chainsaw buzz
of downed trees, hear
the creek rippling over rocks.
Beneath pond reflection
of clearing sky, blanket
of leaf and moss, turtles
resume their swim.
Sludge and wailing subside.
There is a new rumble
of grief, anger, yearning
for what was.
To write through
Every Single Thing
That life has ever taught
Let the words flow from
My mind to the heart
Struggle with the pain
Wrangle the tears
That swell up
From the depths
Of my center
Dangle my thoughts
Upon the edge
Of a line
Drape my mixology
Of print and cursives
Longing to land
On a printed page
Of my published work
How beautiful it is
But what is such a thing
A published work
If you have many
A published pieces
To be read
Read and loved
That is
The real deal.
there was nothing
like the weight
of twenty quarters
in worn jean pockets
looking into the black light
illuminated arcade boxes
lined against those dingy walls
smelling of nachos
and heated plastic
I would delve into
the violence of code
and sound and light
an electro-neon-heat
transcendence
I become
for a moment
as cool as fingerless gloves
with a set of Raybans
reflecting a setting sun
not
some lost boy
nerve-naked
wound tight
loneliness
all escape
measured
in
quarter
after
quarter
after
quarter
I never answered the mime’s cries for help.
Its silent screams seemed failed yawns,
Excavated asthmatic breaths,
Or even stabs at the perfect puffer fish,
An attempt to expand its repertoire beyond
Imitations of strangers on missing persons lists,
Performances limited to blinks and scratches and ambiguous smiles
That could be anyone, anywhere.
It seemed another day at the park, where the mime stashed
Its collection of squalls and see-through boxes
And even a ladder to the stars. Its wiggles on tiptoe
I misread as a tightrope walk between high rises
Rather than a life pushed to the edge.
A silent scream is no more a scream
Than a search party is a party,
Or so I thought, even if its search party regalia
Included a flashlight and party hat.
But when the mime failed to consider
An escape from its box, propped posterboard in its window
To blot out the sun and rocked arms around knees
To the absent rhythms of dark ambience,
I knew that makeup grimace was more
Than thinly-veiled make-believe, and that it no longer knew
The difference—like sitcoms once laugh tracks
Expired, it could no longer escape in plain sight.
It didn’t budge when I nailed an exit sign
To its wall, just gawked with eyes worn
Like loess bluffs from too many gusts
But still sharp as stilettos.
the ones with deep roots
the ones you feel in
your back the next day
that callus your hands.
Love me like you have
no choice,like you enjoy
the way the words persistent
nuisance sound together.
Let the neighbors talk.
Let the passing kids
purse their lips and send
a wild wish out on the wind
lofted by the improbably
light pappus of your ever
spreading love.
First time I saw your face
First time you called me
Ma Ma
First step
First tooth
First birthday
First day of school
I cried
First date
First dance
First kiss
First love
First marriage
First born
I see your face
Little cups and saucers
Pretty thimbles, too
Make a pretty picture
Memories, quite a few
Dolls made out of hankies
Standing within view
Tiny little baskets
Throw an amber hue
Precious lustre pitchers
Only inches tall
With their painted flowers
How I love them all
Stacks of books and pictures
Touched a thousand times
Read and re-read stories
History and rhymes
All my little treasures
Not easy now to part
Journey on to someone
Who holds part of my heart.
