ache

ache and ache

and pain, then pulse

and purity

with hope convulse

  

and vanity

all-too-surety 

half within 

and all without

haunted harlequin 

and parasols 

make-up maids

and poppet dolls

this my reduction

hollow tones 

and hollow halls

empty cures

and vacant molls

unsure hopes

and failing failing failing

distempered kisses

and counting breath

the whispers cut

and tongue unkempt 

silk screen torn

and then I wept

this is your seduction

Settle

To come to rest

like dust

like birds on boughs

peaceful fall 

it is enough.

To quiet, to calm

through muddy waters

see

and make firm

To compact

lives into boxes

photographs

and song

To conclude

place in order

worn leather soles

knot on finger.

Spring Break

One week break to recharge.   

Love and light to all!

This Town

A child moved.

Stores shut down
And were replaced by the nothing
That subsists in abundance
There. In the Copper Country

They predicted when the mines
Ceased to spew ore and minimum wage
The rhythm would syncopate,
Dissonant, then dissipate.
And they were right.

But the men from the mill
Still go drinking at Stubb's Bar
And the kids still double-dog dare
To jump from the abandoned railroad trestle
Free from rotting wood and rusty ties
To the muddy river below.

Past the small brick buildings and
Past the old water tower and the IGA
The new blinking red light
On main street

For David

you are not broken
you are not defective
or elusive or ethereal
or incomprehensible.

you are not alone.

and yet
you like to imagine yourself
all these things.

you are my friend
so i humor you
like a parent 

pretending not to notice
the hide-and-seeking toddler
beneath the kitchen table.

At some point
the injustices will pile up
and the act will grow tired
the version of your Should-Be life

so far removed from What Is

that you will stop
and rest
and be
and notice nothing is broken

rationalize

constructed a reality
that partially exists
validating my truth
and contradicting his
the hours spent repairing damage
i was certain i had caused
only to be met with stony silence
or was it pregnant pause
was a flood of redemption waiting
behind his perfect lips
or an urge to surely strangle
course through his fingertips
at which moment did we devolve
while marinating in disconnect
to the creatures we are presently
saturated in selfishness

blank

a blank page
a blue-white screen
monolithic phonemes
a tongue is pressed against teeth.
a clenched jaw blood-blistering cheek