the sieve and the sand

she moves sharp and violent in bed while sleeping

the tender cream sheets do nothing to comfort her thrashing

and neither do i

i lie next to her, still and awake

feeling nothing

i do not try to calm her anymore

sit many,

silent spread out and waiting

to be taken the same place but not together.

hoping their train will soon arrive.

as children they’d sat near to mother afraid and close

holding her hand, small and wondering

not knowing where they were going.

some things never change

now, not brave, but bigger at least and used to being alone

or maybe just resigned.

hoping their train will soon arrive to take them away

on the train now, they all sit apart together, looking away

out the window, avoiding eye contact with all the other someones

outside a sign:

“Use caution when exiting the train.”

and then: 

“Please be mindful of children.  Please take them by the hand.”

Sound advice

as if hearing the pleas of the silent passing eyes.

i work with this girl who is always

working hard

sometimes all night long, often on the weekends.

she drinks lots of coffee and laughs loud and desperately

but i think she is happy in her small way

tonight her friend asked her to hang out

she said yes, until she remembered

the “optional” work meeting she had agreed to attend.

sorry friend.

but i think it’s better for her that way.

i’d hate for her to find out how much of life she misses every day.

within poems to strangers is said more clearly what

is felt than can be spoken.

written and floating in space not real maybe unread

but better than thoughts kept silent and alone

i don’t mind getting wet in the rain

food off the floor is just fine

i swim in the schulykill

wash my hair once a week

i don’t care for combing

or shaving much

and my favorite shirts all have holes

people say i should care more,

should take more care.

in return, i wish they cared

more about other things.

more about others than things

car scratched and dented

with bumper dragging and headlight gone

i will care so much forever

trying to smile with windows down moving fast

when, beat and tired we see clearly

the things we wish not to see in ourselves anymore,

promises like tears after death

flow fast and sorry

while hands fly up

white flags fly

up flows relief.

surely this time there will be no more one more time

surely the fan has seen its last shit

surely the sand will hold this line because

i don’t want to do this anymore ever for awhile maybe never

it is nice to get things done

to move about and do things

yes, doing things is nice

better is many friends sitting in rooms on couches close and laughing

we are invincible when close and laughing

like a toe snaking to the water’s surface

this is just a test