a rose
near this door
unfolds over
unfolds over
a few days
unfolds slowly
each day
I take care
to watch
each time
I walk by
or I only see
what I’ve seen
(August 2012)
-
-
The Day’s Spaces
by
and then I am herethinking of you yet againand then I am hereanother turn in the mazeand then I am hereyears of vague musingsand then I am hereshaped through my desiresand then I am herea slow seductionand then I am herethe walls rise quicklyand then I am hereentangled in your wordsand then I am hereawake in this dreamand then I am heredeciphering these signsand then I am herewith a tattered mapand then I am hereonly a step awayand then I am herethinking of you not here(August 2012) -
No Promises
I offer only what I have.Here, take my hand.Come with me.Let us see this worldwe walk through together.(August 2012) -
What I Know
by
“Memory believes before knowing remembers”William FaulknerLet me tell you a story,my story; but a storyone could tell in lieuof any other story.I remember fearshuffling down the halllike a snuffling beardying into the night.I knew as I know,bears don’t ragein suburban homessmashing televisions;And yet, believing in stories,I listened and becamea part of what wasin order to believe.But anger burns reason,and memory, unreasonably,rewrites itself continuallyinto happy redemptions.So the bear sleeps uneasilyin a bed just so, somewhatsafe in our stateof emotional wreckage.Now, leave with this storytrailed by a moral ambiguitytinged with what you believeto remember of this day.(August 2012) -
Analogical Possibility
by
it’s as if then lovetosses about like insomniacsthe night pretends a solaceas the day begins againthen love flits awaybefore we wake to seeas chance drops a cointhen another on the tablea third falls into doubtthree coins tossed six timesit’s as if hope echoes youwith each metallic pingsuch as much as thisand thus we read eachrandom crack acrossthe ice from which wewalk as if it’s then safeenough to search for youyet there’s the rub if everenough can be enough forlove ripples out through outeach of the shores we wanderuntil we wake with chanceinto each other’s darker night(August 2012) -
Seduction
by
look but don’t looka surreptitious glancealong a peripheryas if speaking plainlyinto a metaphorshe will not understanda cat crouchesin thicker grassbelow the finch’s branchwhere to next whereto now the bird’s eyetilts askew to groundembedded withineach purred worda muted pearlcome to me nowsing your song herein this different wood(August 2012) -
Outside In
Here, I shift,uncomfortable inwhat clothesothers dress me;yet, I wearwhat’s offered:oblivious toalternatives.Alone, I livewithin myselfwhistling my songslightly out of tune.I chase my shadows,wisps, which vanishin the silent airalong these edges.(July 2012) -
Within One Definition
by
“by my words will I be justified”-Susan Howehe writesto troublehis marginsthis is his placeherewithin his wordslooking for himshe reads signshe leaves behindsome easyto followlike bread crumbsothersshe must teasefrom twig snapseven when closethey are apartthe words they say arenot always what they hearhe speaks she listensshe speaks he listenswhat parts are understoodshape the heartwithin each other(July 2012) -
Textual Exegesis, or Three-Card Monte
by
It’s there, you say assertively.She holds out an empty hand.There, then.She holds out an empty hand.There.She holds out an empty hand.(July 2012) -
Walking After Midnight
by
Within this clichéI walk aloneon a familiar pathas a way to moveaway from cautionwhile staying safeeach tangentelides a differenceto a similarityeach step shiftsthe name of meaningenough to matterthese woods I entertransform as I movedeeper to myself(July 2012) -
incommunicado
by
so many holesfor questionsto embedimplicationslike echoespartially foldedinto themselvesuntil evenhonestycloaked in doubtapproacheslike a mendicantbeggingfor answersto solidifyuninterrupted(July 2012) -
Projection
You are who I imagine,until you are not, and thenonly who you are remainsscattered like thoughts.(July 2012) -
How We Go On
by
We talk through the night.Afterwards, you walk home in the dark.I watch you to the bend in the road.(July 2012) -
Fourteen Similes Without Context
by
like glass slivers scattered on the ruglike blood splattered on our walllike a prize without a winnerlike an ecstatic sinnerlike a stranger’s slow gaitlike her causal laughterlike the sun at nightlike a fellow neophytelike an empty pickle jarlike a hand crushed in a machinelike the opening of a doorlike the smell of an unread booklike a poemlike a moment after your dying thought(July 2012)
