Along convoluted back trails
misted in vague familiarity,
we wonder in our ruins,
grown strange and inevitable
across dry rivers and dead grass.
Former landmarks fall to rubble,
become base for new towers,
new ways, not ours.
Then as if by accident,
as if with purpose,
we arrive each moment,
near-sighted and deaf
to regale in our misfortune,
repeating yet another iteration
of the story we all wear,
like chains forged from dust.
(May 20, 2021)
by
with spring’s violence flowers burst
into bloom from winter’s death
as chimes toll slowly in the tree
mere weeks ago ice creaked
tightly along the chase tree’s
twisted branches as the chimes
hung limp and people froze
to death alone at home
(May 9, 2021)
by
when listening to someone speak
each word takes root
along the tendrils of the unsaid
a pattern emerges
branch grafted on old wood
flowers to mourn the newly dead
(May 8, 2021)
by
certainty’s a razor’s edge
pressed lightly across skin
i draw a line along
the length of my arm
tracing a blue vein
a way in a way out
(May 4, 2021)
by
the turn was not a turn
you saw with my eyes
I blinked it vanished
she said no it was
not as you said
the way I knew it to be
the ragged lines spoke
with stranger accents
skewed cognates
the way was only
the way here
the sole path here
the sky cleared
the sky stormed
the rain was dry
the way here was
the only way here
only me here now
I only know
this language
the words come to me
by birth
by chance
by god
she said yes but
not as you said
only what I said
it was the way
I knew the way
the way I said
(May 3, 2021)
by
maps do not speak
as vaguely blurred
vowels along riverbanks
where second cousins
two counties removed
slur to their mates
nor sift for finer
details in pap’s
bourbon tongue
(April 26, 2021)
by
“lesser christs of dim aspirations”
—Apollinaire
as an early spring front approaches
and dark clouds push across an empty sky
the first line begins the separation
from who I once was to what I’ve become
the slow dissolve from silence
into a momentary resistance
to the callow acquiescences
and the nodding submissions
imbued in these day to day devotions
this moment turns without motion
without thought as though it were
not there as though I was not ever there
as i was not the day before nor after
but only now in a field arms outstretched
the cold rain washing softly over me
(April 25, 2021)
The moon’s still there;
look up. Happiness lies near
the ground where you stand.
(April 22, 2021)
by
there in the day
to day constancy
there in the grain
of our tongues
as we speak
each to each
of the most
trivial things
there is where
the how arrives
on soft cat feet
oblivious of the night
there is the story
you said then said
along the seams
between dark and light
the story we heard
the story we tell
stitching our scars
along calloused lines
one strangled knot
woven into another
an embroidery
of nooses
until we’re hardened
to brittle words
which shatter all
we once were
thin crystal slivers
from a broken glass
scattered like stars
across the floor
(April 19, 2021)
by
when I wake
into the night
uncertain
of where
I am
I hear your breath
nearby
a surety
you are
still
a part
of me
(April 15, 2021)
by
tension slips between
skin and flesh
as skillful as a fishmonger’s
blade slices down
the length of an eel
with one stroke
a practiced motion
without thought
like a priest at prayer
each wooden bead rolled
over fingertips in sync
with the slow muttered vowels
one patterned moment
moving toward the next
with endless patience
as the next ritual waits
for the candle to be lit
the words to flow
less with meaning
than as a balm
to still disquiet
(April 14, 2021)
each evening
the day’s tasks
settle around you
like dust
in an abandoned house
the fire is low
the room dark
you are worn
a ragged coat
hung upon a chair
tomorrow will differ
only in its minutia
what you will have
for dinner and what
words you will say
(April 11, 2021)
by
within a multitude of soft tongues
a flame whispers accusations
around the kindling at your feet
and with a puff from her lips
it flourishes like angelic trumpets
curling toward a blackening sky
then soon enough
the fire fades
to a boredom
akin to sadness
it’s not there
in its absence
as sadness pervades
each need
with lackadaisical ease
(April 5, 2021)
