A long day with odd strangers
The spring has brought newness unimaginable
There are things worse than me at my worst
Because my worst ain't so bad
Reread these words in 20 years
And know exactly what was in my head when I answered with monosyllables
Just now something slid off and hit with a thump
Just like three weeks ago: something slid out, silently, like a slight cry
Whenever I see you I miss it, but I'm better off without it
And to grow it back only to again cut it down
I won't do that anymore.
Just this once
In a quiet night tone of voice
With nightbirds peering over their tucked wings
Bits of paper float down on the wind, which barely holds them
Lowering them to the ground
As dark clouds scutter across the horizon
She emerged out of the trees
Searching, like she was looking for someone
She found me
But now on late winter nights
I see her from the window
Stalk back into the trees
Like she is hiding something
And I'm too scared to ask
And all sorts of pieces are missing
Do I grow as the vine grows?
Limber and stragulating in my discontent?
Or do I grow as the tree, firm and set in my ways until rot or accident moves me?
Or do I grow as the weed grows? Am I everywhere unkept and underfoot, and uprooted do I return again?
I have decided: I never will be the flower - I'm not beautiful. Nor am I the corn or the wheat, for I'm not that valuable.
I'll be the weed, and I'll stay here and return no matter where they haul me.
What am I doing in this bed?
I belong at the mouth of a river
Or exploding a lab
Not here! Anywhere but here!
Me - ME in a room with a humidifier running
Alarm set for a day gig
Four door cars everywhere
And there aren't songs, but there is soap, and chatchka in the bathroom
While I'm old enough for mild gum disease and comforting a small kid
having a nightmare.
She comes like a boney little girl
And taking me by the hand we run up the stairs to a secret room
The windows are open, a chill breeze floods in and
Gathers at my feet
I tiptoe across, wave "bye" to the skinny girl and head north
Of umbrellas we spoke
And covering up
And medicine in what amount
Cars drift past
My slack tired jaw
Advice from the misbegotten
In maybe 4 to 8 years
I'll sit on a bench in the summer
Under a purple night sky
And have my company kept by fireflies.
The big night was a week ago
When yelling changed everything
Even the bugs moved out
The yelling changed everything
When no one bothers to write a card or list thank you names
You know there's Taps waiting in someone's bugle
And this thing will soon smell dead
Because yelling changed everything
Should have slept hours ago
Climb a rickety framework
And lying down in a pillowy pyre
Commit myself to the serious business of forgetting
Should have slept forever.