Thursday, February 23, 2017

Poolside, Marseilles, 1931

Breathing seemed like a good idea,
one I had lost some familiarity with,

and we were a little bit lazier than we used to be,
without reason,

but not that way,
just this way,
the way that we were peeling off our skin,
and our layers,
and pulling our eyelids back a bit,

and then I breathed again,
one more time,
for good measure,

but I was without a ruler,
or a marker,

and I wanted to jump into the pool,
just to be away from everyone else,

under the moonlight,
just at the time when we found the Fata Morgana between last night


and today

Wednesday, February 22, 2017

Jot

You wrote things down that were not true,
that were not for you to say,
or me,
or anyone,
because they were not true,

and I had a distaste for the resentment and the infighting you had started,
it was as if none of us knew,
not remembered,
but knew,
where we came from,
and where they came from,
and then before that,
who before us,

they didn't know their brain from a hole in it,

but you were okay,
we wrote these things down

Tuesday, February 21, 2017

Hall

None of this was supposed to be easy,
I kept hearing good and easy and that those were the necessities here,

but really,
all of this was to say that we had things to say,
and we wanted to be heard,

and we didn't want a watch,
or a ticker,

or somebody in here telling us how this does and doesn't work,

we would learn along the way,
how to bend the arms,
the arc as he said,

we knew we had to work to bend it in our direction,

and maybe these crowds were not enough,
but they were something,
they meant something,

especially when we got into death,
and the undertaking of all of this,
and the kind of panel you wouldn't cop to,

that one,
I would not,
will not let go

Monday, February 20, 2017

Presidents Day, 2017

Would it be too obvious to say I missed the decency?




I did,
and not just his,

all of it,

almost all of it that came before---
because now is new,

but new is the wrong word,

we're using the wrong word,
and we're making the mistake of comparability,

it's just a different lane,
and I wanted out,
I didn't even want the handicaps with the gutters,
I just wanted nothing to do with any of it,
save for pulling us out---

Sunday, February 19, 2017

Five, Circa 2017

We got to talking about things I wanted nothing to do with,
for now at least,
the hover boards,
and dust,
and sky,
and here,
and there,
and somewhere you longed for that I might not be privy to,

We got to talking about musings,
and uncertainties,
and timelines,
and things that did not belong to me,
and I was okay,
until I wasn't,

but only because I wasn't ready to miss you,
not now,

not ever

Saturday, February 18, 2017

Rally Cry

This could all be water under the bridge,
if we would take steps inward from the left,
and they from the right,
and if there was some swimming there on the meridian,

or maybe if there was no stop light here with the three fissures splitting us to oblivion,
maybe,

but these were lines of demarcation,
damning ones at that,

and I didn't like the sound of my rights being taken away,
of having anything less than I had yesterday,
and the day before that,
and all the days until the day I arrived,
we arrived,

and my recollection of bridges was the iron cast one from Castle Rock,
with the tracks,
and the running for our lives,
when we were worried about combs,
and fake real dead bodies,

I knew I could find that bridge,

but this one,
this one,
I had no intention of looking for,

and we were all getting a little too thirsty,
yet again---


Spotlit

I'm not sure why any of this is funny,
or why we needed glasses to see if better,





and I just found myself wishing for rain,
and inclement weather,
so I could huddle up in here,
behind the windows,

to myself

Friday, February 17, 2017

Resignation

No one here

hears

or wants to face the music,

maybe they were deaf,

or selective,
likely the latter,

yes,
quite likely

Wednesday, February 15, 2017

Dream State

Let me be a dreamer,
that's what I asked of you,
to let me have that which was given to you at birth,

not because I deserved it,
though I did,

not because you felt sorry for me,
I found no worth in pity,

not because of anything other than the fact that it was rightfully mine,
just as it was yours,

and because I saw it for what it was,
and I saw my livelihood hinging on it,
and I hated a little bit that I had to request this from you,

because it was mine,
just as it was yours,
just as it was the weary, the poor, the rest of us etched on that sarcophagus,
because that is what it was,

and there was no dignity in deferral,
it meant my destiny was not my own,
and it was not yours,

it was somewhere in the triangle,
somewhere in the middle of it all,
where Washington's ambivalence came to die,

for good,

but without good reason---

Tuesday, February 14, 2017

February, and a Bleeding Heart

She said,
I told you so,
but you were busy using the string to tie up her tongue,
and mine,


and anyone else who found value in persistence

Monday, February 13, 2017

The Boredom of a Millenial, a Decade Early

Late at night,
I let the horns waft through the cold air,
and the trees I envied,
and I rested my bones on this wraparound porch,

It was at the end of a dirt road,
and I thought I would find the four of them there,
and that it would be Sunny,
and that bears would,
could talk, and that in ink jet printing,
I saw the Berlin Wall come down,
and I was told about Pearl Harbor on a chalkboard,
and a Vis-a-Vis,
and only if I was willing to write any of this down,

And the rain that poured outside,
on Fridays,
before I went home to that place,
on my porch,
that rain let on that there would be heat lightning,
and things down here that looked a lot like the Northern Lights,

And I was so happy,
for all the Fridays ahead,
and all the distance we had from that,
until a sunny, cloudless Tuesday,
until that

Sunday, February 12, 2017

Intention, Georgia, 1918

I think I needed some alone time,
some persistence,
some time at the planks,

I was losing the war with will power,
night in and night out,

had a lot to put down,
and out,

and I wanted to be remembered long after I was gone,
though I knew that shouldn't be the artery to all of this,
or any of it,

for that matter---