And so
as predicted
she becomes addicted
to all the drugs her body can
produce.
addiction
More Delicious
Where does the pain go
when she stops
feeling it? When
it is no longer
masked by
drugs or delusion. When
the physical becomes
emotional becomes
psychological dares
to become
spiritual. Couldn’t it
just be?
Delicious
Pain is
a messenger
she would like
to shoot
if she had
a gun. If
she believed
in that sort
of thing. If
she had
better aim. If
she wasn’t
sometimes in
love with it—him.
Interception
Your secret
is safe
with me. You
are not
safe with more
secrets.
Addiction Cinquain
Brother
lost into night
has not gone far enough
to want to be discovered lost—
brother.
Discard Pile Thief
“We quote each other only when we’re wrong.”
—Jay Farrar (Uncle Tupelo), from “High Water” (Anodyne)
A half dozen
roses tossed
onto a snow bank. A garment
bag with wheels
going in circles
on a carousel
of time. Three
sisters, one
mother, a wife, two
children under
four. One father—
recently dead. A box of notes
for a novel
scrapped without
a plot. A birthday
gift for a modern
novelist—long dead. A bowl
of yellow split
pea soup without
a spoon. Six
roses in the wrong
kind of water.
The dialogue
that preceded them.
All the quotation
marks she saved
just in case.
O, Brother, Where Art Thou?
No one walks
this way
forever. No one waits
for the call
without some skin
crawling in
the dark. No one wishes
this on you—save
perhaps you. Save
yourself from
yourself. I would walk
that far to meet you
in the middle
where odysseys are
just stories we read
before switching off the light.
Two Years Smoke Free (Or, David Bowie’s Birthday)
Wild winter wishes
rumble through weeds. A plain
for practicing
freedom cartwheels. Late
afternoon fog, or
are they low-lying
clouds dancing just above
freezing? No more
halo, I make my way home
without rings.
Vintage Remake
Dumpster divers go
deep into the dense
castaway fray
seeking souls
sold, gifted, re-gifted,
sold again. Is their retrieval
performance art? I set
the stage with a table,
chairs, worn-out dresses,
a suede jacket bought
used, old bookcases,
more than one pair
of black boots. Am I the set
designer or merely
an enabler?
Questions to ask next time
the lid slams too hard.
Temptation Stage
This is my novelty
act she declares
to the empty chairs
rimming a painted
blue room. Watch me
flash my willpower
through still air. A cigarette,
ashtray, bottle
of vodka, shot
glass, and the number 8
all lined up
on a table
she will not touch.
Now for Act II.