Flowing through the
thickest water to get
back home.
stone by stone
head by head
The conductor says
that
I’ve been left behind.
At least I saw her smile.
Do you know what the
slap of stale breath
against cotton at 4:18
in the morning sounds
like?
12 hours of parceled sighs
packed and planned in
a head
so full of nothing that
it would make you scream
to the sky for the offense
of it all.
Sleep was never the answer.
stop the time
look up at the dappled sky;
feel the breeze on your cheeks
distant traffic flows as
nearby larks gossip about the coronation
under these blushing cherry blossoms, we have vanished
prune juice
laced with liquor
laid my neck in this noose;
why does that cold-hearted Kicker
snicker?
——
The “Kicker” is meant to be the individual who kicks the bucket out from under a person’s feet in a hanging.
I spy your gospel lurking by the strand
as silver slides against a velvet purse.
Are answers docking nigh this fallow land?
Before us lies a large imposing hearse.
Instead of rolling onto distant slopes,
it starts towards me, sobbing wordless verse.
It pulls upon my skin with battered ropes
but somehow fingers fend off fruitless fear,
allowing breath to flood back with my hopes.
The heated gates behind us slam and sneer.
Then, silence falls atop cold faces still
distraught by echoes howling far and near.
When springtide comes to this uncomely hill
my heart will welcome Charon’s transparent will.
malice
sheathed in a smile
shall destroy this palace
should we elect not to revile
such guile
——–
I am posting an odd numbered cinquain for a change.
pinched timber floorboards
keep secrets
between meager cracks
In all the years I’ve roomed with you
I have not understood
just why you choose to chomp your chew
as wretched wildcats would.
Tongues twist lies fiercely.
Dark nights foresaw scandals as
burned disgraces confessed unabashedly
of evils committed.
Drink didn’t influence
our
FATE;
our influence didn’t drink.
Committed evils of unabashedly confessed
disgraces burned as
scandals foresaw nights, dark.
Fiercely, lies twist tongues.
—————
Happy New Year!
As hasty hands fan over toys
I ponder on the past.
Oh, how I hope your childhood joys
will stick around and last!
A man in a navy blue polyester suit hurries past the large maple
tree that sits in front of your house; his financial trouble
grows greater with every passing day.
In time, he may have to move out of his
Brooklyn apartment and go live with his son in Trenton.
———————
*edited after inital posting
sundry folly 