Start :: Absent
Almost
lost
buried
Wound tightly
under a hard scarred surface
Flawed
bruised
What is
underneath
tension
time
imagine it
ripe
scared
rotting
Reminding
seeds
grow up
and out
Discard
struggling towards the sun
Wraiths
voices
upon voices
endless trail
of stories
flowers
ivy
robins pick
at pieces
of dropped treats
Look, they tell me
look
Yes
I am looking
please don’t
Her
I have to remind myself
She hasn’t been
twenty-five
In over thirty years
here
surrounded by
connection
a never ending web
I will unnecessarily
try to side-step
when I leave
as it weaves and wefts
with my moves
not wanting me
to get
stuck
Immuration
out of focus
for the sake of comfort
reconsider
painting the sky
what you do
in those hours
is just that
soft
supple
tired
damp
ache that lifts
only occasionally
I am going to make eggs.
garlic
tomatoes
blue cheese
over grilled port muffins
Next week will be different
and she
will still be
here
so many moments
I should write this down
no pen, paper, phone,
I think
how could I forget this?
I hope I will remember
fried chicken and gravy
snickerdoodle muffins
each step
taken slowly
measured right
pause to check
my mother’s recipe cards
I hope I will remember
how beautiful
Aurora’s laughter
wafting down
as I
pull muffins from the oven
plate chicken
ladle gravy
how perfect her pitch
bright songs
echoing down the stairs
I follow them
back up
the day’s efforts
outside her door
small wooden table
the usual note
left in bright green
Two Parts
1.
he is crying
tears staining crimson
contrasting
white shining crinoline
torn from pearl shoulders
a mannequin
he has nailed
to the wall.
greying hair – he
still thinks
Bitch.
glistening red nails
rake across his conscience.
2.
cold, wet, satin
wrapping around skin
moistened cellophane
too long stored in the fridge
eremitic breath
gasped in time
with a rasping radiator
what she learns
she can’t leave
longing without hope
desire towards disaster
hands of a stranger
melded to tangling plastic
protectively terminating
the one ritual
that would set her free
What Do You Know
Do you
Do you know
Do you even know
what you thinkfeelwantneed
or does it change
Does it change
Change every time you think about it
Think about it:
what do you feel need want think
what is the same
the same every time you think about it
What do you need think feel want
do you know
do you even know
Who is the same
the same every time
every time you think about it
If she is the same
is it really changing
Changing, really, every time
It is never the same
or is it the same
Do you know
Do you even know
Who you want need feel think
Do you
or does she change
Does she change or do you
Do you even know who
who she is
she is
what you t h i n k f e e l w a n t n e e d
Do you know
does it change
it changes, she is the same
Do you even know?
Just So
It is winter so
I am
wrapped in grey
even when I pull
my red sweater
out
from amongst
a sea of black wool
trying to bleed hope
into
narrow
days
I count slivers that hide
behind pink curtains
Today
seventeen
tomorrow
nineteen
then
twenty-one
twenty three
twenty five
Ticking towards the sun
A slow shift from monochrome
back
into the world
Twenty four plus two
Always
bringing it back to
circle back to
daring to feel
everything
facing or
giving up
hoping
it will be
just
keep going
love isn’t
must not
never is
over
progress, however small
quitting or
resist, don’t resist
saving everything
this time
under water
value, remember it
what you cannot see
xerox that feeling, the memory
you believe, it’s not a
zero sum game
The Little Red Hen 