Inflammatory

Heart of piece

Jagged and caught

Tearing holes in

Anatomy

Lost to me

The time when

Anti-inflammatory

Ended the story

Now stitches

Clot the blood

Won’t staunch the flood

Throat and eyes

Scratched and dried

Stop and I’d

Give the contents

And my character

And every lost

Cell and membrane

If you could build me

A scab

I’d wear it off

Wear it down

To the capsule

Where the ends meet

Where we repeat

The aches

Waiting

For the scar.

Plans

Plans

Booked, busy

No one with a ticket

To match mine

Full tank

No map

Can’t read one anyway

Dreams in the last town

Chasing letters

And numbers

Getting out

Turning back

Dots and pins

That

Keep us in

Circling the same

Round about

Again and

Again

Unable to

Wrench the wheel

Because the hands

Clenched

Are

Rigid tight

And won’t let go

Pictures

In my hozison

And posts

Stringing lines

Lies

Can’t keep eyes on

Everything

Turn, turn,

Seen this turn before

Passing again

Please pass

Haven’t made the city yet

Here in the slow lane

Short legs can’t keep up

Longer every day

Same shoes

Next to the stairs

Bounding down

Trudging up

Same bed

Next to the stairs

Crawling in

Staying forever

Unless there are

plans

So Proud of You

So proud of you

So…

Should I wait for…

You…

Almost done

Not my turn

Not my

Fundamental

Victory

Those come

In the

Parlor maids door

Serving drinks

For the quality

To celebrate

The quality of

Everything you do

You

Meant to be about you

Sorry

Forgot my choices

Again

Before

You

You won again.

So proud of you.

Not a sin

Not a single

day

Without

A confession

Leaving through

The absolvent’s curtain

Forgiving again

From both sides

Of the kneeler

Proud of the thief

Empathizing of the covetous

Stroking the vanity

Cloaking

The smile

The tears

Already masters

Of self defense

Of you.

For you

To you

This moment.

Harder to give away

When a moment

Is all you want.

And all I want

Is for the moment

To choke

On it.

When I breathed

Remembered

There weren’t hands around my neck

They were

There

And I didn’t have to prove,

I did.

I didn’t have to

But if I want to

There’s more to being proud.

I Did That

That hair,

that eyebrow

I did that.

Pile of pages

Me.

That smile.

That cry.

Closed eyes and

Tightened fist.

That trip.

20,000 words

That accident.

Out of bed.

Those steps.

Created a family vase

from shattered ceramic

Out of bed again.

Omitting all the

haven’t

can’t

won’t

because they

Don’t

Matter.

Matter

is for the cosmos.

I’m for the moon.

Read

Listened

Looked

Responded

when matter changed.

I stopped listening

To lies

Long

To act in the

short.

I looked for sun.

I cleaned up the blood.

I laid out clues

that were followed.

Talked to the stranger,

took the compliment.

Saw and

was not ashamed.

Praised through jealousy

Smiled through tears

Celebrated grief

Explained fears

I did that.

I cast a shadow and

Learned to love the darkness.

Wouldn’t give up then

Finally let go

So all the hands

could hold.

Climed the hill

treated the blisters

saw the empty trees

for the boughs

They were meant for.

Built us on a narrow road

tilled the grass

swept the gravel

for a place to weather the storm

and wait for bloom.

Not today.

But

Stands to reason

I will again

I did that.

(For the One who reminds me what I can do.)

Rolling and Action

Setting the Stage

 

Take it in
Or move it down
Inside your brain
Swallowed sound

Of raging voices
Screaming truths
Convinced of lack
Inked with proof

A game of words
Pronouns defend
Lighted eyes
Deferred send

Now you see
Body real
Indulging full
The hurt you feel

A twist of truth
A curl of cuts
Under lights
Marks and ruts

In the veneer
Of… fine
And talk later
…Sometime

Good to relate
Walk in shoes
Laced to go past
And forward, a ruse

Lit with love
And real passion
Audio dubbed
Broadcast captioned

Back to base
Edit for use
See what’s there
In flesh, not obtuse

It’s a brilliant idea
Shy short on conception
Third act falls apart
Only basement perfection

Still a story to tell
Commit to these players
Immersed in this world
Of witches and sooth-sayers

Learning to trust
Willing to believe
The feelings will endure
A nervous reprieve

Rolling and action
only mean start
to the ones pretending
not the ones staged apart

Her Light

She is

not your spotlight

Focusing attention in the darkness

calling everyone to look

So you see

What it is you can do.

Not your search light

To guide you into harbor

when you’ve sailed your ships

Against warning

Into black and chopped waves.

Not to blame for

Being the siren who lured you back.

She was singing for herself

Not the mirror you held up

So she could see the faults

Not her hand that

Turned and burned you instead

The silence of your fury

Louder than the

Sighs of your disinterest.

Not your torch,

to frighten back creatures

You don’t understand.

She has her own monsters

creeping to her doors

and learning her language.

Carrying torches

Only grinds down

arthritic arms.

She put hers down.

She can’t do it

Too heavy.

The lights are too bright.

headaches are

far too dug in and planted

Photosynthesis the

Power line to

Migration.

Her own screwed in

Halogen

Fluorescent

Mixed white and blue and

Orange

Not matching when seen back

in her balanced eyes.

Her palms aren’t

Scarred and fibrous

As as her heart

to hold the light bulb

In place with bare hands.

It’s low watt but

Still

her fingers blister

fluid leaking

slipping

And she doesn’t have the grip

To twist

Your glass fragile

Illumination

In place.

She is candles and

altars with incense.

Low glow and quiet alone

With her disciple.

One you whispers,

knowing a harsh breath

kills the flame.

Happy in the room

She left dark.

The sun rises tomorrow

Isn’t it pretty to think

So dawn soft

Smoothed hair

Hazy unfocused

hands

Touched in shadows.

Chasing away the light

For just a little longer

Not needing to be

The brightness

But wanted to be

the still silhouette

Casting her own

Direction.

From her light.

One More Tonight

I’ve thought about it

I’m ready.

I’m really, finally ready.

I know it’s scary but

It’s something I want to do

I’ve always wanted to do

Thought I wanted

It’s time.

I have to,

Right?

That’s what people do,

Isn’t it?

Can’t keep on like this,

Night and fading music

Empty glass and

Last one in the pack

Pack

I should pack

If I’m going-

But, if I’m not leaving tomorrow

I don’t have to wrinkle all

My clothes in a bag tonight.

I don’t even need a suitcase yet.

In fact, I could just pick up what

I need once I get there.

I’m sure I’ll manage.

I won’t need anything anyway.

Be so excited to get there.

That’s what everyone says.

Be so busy I won’t have time to

Think

about anything else.

What I left.

Or didn’t do.

Far too busy.

Always so busy.

I was thinking about

that time, remember?

We were all there,

It was so late

everyone was laughing.

No one wanted to leave.

Some of them did.

We all have to.

Can’t stay forever.

Don’t want to be

The last one at the party.

Last one.

What about one last one?

For old time’s sake.

For the road.

For tonight and tomorrow.

Maybe one more tomorrow.

Tonight isn’t ready.

Tomorrow isn’t here yet.

One more.

Tonight.