Don’t you want me
to dance on your grave?
These ashes could soothe
more than feet—could be
those dead man’s clothes
are yours now.
Month: October 2010
Pons
Another cruel reminder, cut
across the cheek upon waking—she is powerless
over her dreams. All those words
he lost will not be retrieved
the way her unconscious mind plots
it. The medication she lost
is not hers to lose. If she could
control them, no kisses planted
with perfect choreography
could open any trap doors
to escape from the message:
not to be false.
The Best Thing To Do
To lift each piece
of mismatched furniture
to sweep beneath
is a risk
to find faith
in the ability to face
the ache and relief
and horror and
acceptance of a mystery
tragically solved.
No More Delivery
On farmer’s market
day, she helps the blind
man find his time
to cross. The colors
of a vegetable stand meld
into one kaleidoscope
wish—to do
these things without
announcing them
as some addict’s letter
to the world. This is not
what Emily meant.
October Grief
Dust in a machine,
overheated thoughts trigger
emergency shutdowns. Zigzag
is not a place. This is
the only place
where rain comes in threads
that won’t dissolve
the glue she uses
to hold what’s left
of her together.
High Hat Wind
Moan or whistle, skyway
window panes are walls
of response to the lowest
air pressure to hit the state
in recorded history. Loss
of power isn’t the same
as how we become powerless
to stop weather patterns
of obsession from registering
overhead—constricting within.
Epitaph in Ashes
For Steve
Because there would be
no next time
around, she chooses to listen
to Nick Drake, Sandy Denny, Joy
Division the way he would have wished
if he still could.
