Your stock has been one in a million.
Given away freely,
Now of priceless worth.
Your steady trend has been upwards,
Always forward, never back.
And there have been recessions.
There’s even been depressions.
But you’ve been resilient.
Downturns will surely come in the future,
Opportunities for you to turn up.
And here we are today,
More than a decade since inception.
You alone are my portfolio.
Exposed to risk.
Betting only on the appreciation of you.
Won’t you be my neighbor?
Won’t you be my lover?
Won’t you be my friend?
Through thick? Through thin?
Here in the neighborhood
Or in the land of make believe.
Because we should tell each other,
the truth and the facts.
Because we should tell each other,
That it’s a beautiful day to be alive.
So won’t you be mine? Would you,
Be mine? Won’t you be?
There’s been 143 times 33
Days since we’ve married.
And 1 + 4 + 3 still equals
I like you.
I love you.
I want you.
I need you.
Just the way you are.
a summer dream
we speak of love
do not poison
the air with your
do not focus your
i would work a lifetime
for 5 minutes more
I sat for perhaps a lifetime
my hands clutching nothing
as I rocked in the perfect black
I found my feet slowly
When finally I could breathe again
and found the pool more slowly still
“Further West, I’d wager,” I whispered
as I eased in to the frigid water feet-first
and filled my lungs with all the air they’d take
In a moment I was submerged
in another I was swimming under sea and stone
It wasn’t long before I saw the sun again.
“You’ve come so far,” you whispered
as you wrapped me in warm arms
robbing all my breath from me
“You know I can’t come with you.”
I felt you say in to my chest,
my arms finally overlapping yours
“I swear you’ll see me again.”
you crackled, tightening your hold
even as you began to fade away
You took the light when you left;
With hands and knees I found the cave floor
and laid my tears there in the darkness
I came to on a slab of hard rock
my eyes adjusting to the soft blue light
peering through a thin crack in the cave roof
Seasoked clothes clung to my skin
as I rolled my sore body to the side
working slow to stand before gazing around
You were there next to a gentle pool
there was a glow about your bedclothes
and a gentle brightness in your smile
We stood in the cool of our breathing
until you stepped forward to touch my shoulder;
I couldn’t say a word
I made tracks through the sandy beach
closing on the vast blue sea
which calmed and quieted with each step
There was only a yard between us
when the sea became stock still,
the air a perfect chill, and silent
I stopped a moment, hearing only my heart,
the quiet breaking as the sea exploded,
thundering upward in a great pillar
The watery monolith roiled as it blocked the sun
“Hello, old friend,” I whispered in its shadow;
it shuddered once, then crashed down to consume me
I made my way through sand-set grasses
beneath the heat of the high noon sun
falling forward with each soft step
The salt-air harassed my hair and clothes
The rumble of the unstoppable growing louder
I found myself on a short dune-cliff
The sea stretched out immeasurable
rolling softly beneath a nearly cloudless sky
its vista unmarred by passing ships or seabirds
“As cold as it ever was,” I murmured
as I dropped my pack in the yellow stand
climbing down to the beach below
My body rose first the next morning
awoken in part by the rattling cold
I stood watching the sun a horizon away
The tin kettle was near the top of my kit
the black grounds in the bottom were thick
“Just a taste sometimes,” I muttered, stoking smoking coals
When I descended toward the water
it was full on oats and coffee
and with steps unsure as they were careful
By the time the sunrise had ceased
I was half-way down the mountain
with only the great blue sea in my sights
It must have been twelve hours
Though the dark laid useless my pocket watch,
I could have counted clacks
As the car slowed beneath my flour-bag perch
I pushed the slide-door wide
leaping to beat the bulls
I rolled to and stopped in a pile
my eyes finally finding me on a mountaintop
overlooking a great wide sea
The dusk set in as the freighter set out
“Mountain’s cold as scorn,” I mumbled gathering fuel;
I found no serpents under fallen brush
In the afternoon sun
I could have heard my fits of coughing
but for the freight train’s clatter
you were somewhere near the ocean
“I’m sure of it now.” I said from my knees;
My feet found ground beneath me
My pack lay heavy on my shoulders
the blood nearly reddening my cheeks
my tracks leading to the freighter-line’s
the clatter had ceased by then
and it was just a short climb inside
to the long ride up the mountains
In the autumn dark
between silence and sleep
I’d thought you could be found
I fumbled with my switchblade
When I heard the racket
Just beyond the edge of the clearing
there was a rustling then
a whisper to the din that had come before
and the viper slid up my leg as carelessly
“What did you do with her?” I asked unanswered
while the fangs found my deepest reddest vein;
I was dead by morning
at what point do
that it is poison
that you are
you stupid bug
your way here
as you were born
to take a little
while the lion’s share goes to your master
it was i who put that poison there,
for you and your kin
to see you
i am repulsed
you should know better
to be soft
and fall for an easy trap
To stand on the cusp of a waking dream
is a dream all itself
and yet I stand coughing up
a bittersweet backwash
as I lay here, thinking about love
and I am tempered fully
because the adage is true;
you can’t have everything
and Pat Carroll was right, too
about everything, just like I feared
he may be
if i could only write one good
it would be about when we went
and the humidity of
the middle part
how it did fog up
my glasses in
it would be about how i felt like
the whole time i knew you
a small puppy hidden under
and when we got to golf shores
i felt the foreboding of
being set free
by your sullen parents
in this, the best of my poems
i would remember and in detail
explain the last moment we
but only the beach remains
walking barefoot and
the new freckles
i would fall between
and i would end the poem
and much before i spent a week
at my grandmother’s
far from home
vomiting out religiously
all the sickness i had
the lights were
still on the music
still loud when you
ran crying into the
the sand ate up
your steps and
when you met the
sea it was so cold,
and so uninviting
what did you expect?
maybe a caring and
cloud whose womb
you would climb inside
of and wish it all away
yet the air outside
the wedding tent was cold
as was the water that
lept at your toes
as you stood backwards
the dj to
or, don’t you have the balls?
or, walk back to the tent
let the sand eat your steps
wipe the salt water off your face
and toast the happy couple.
if i could live
i would meet you
in the open field
with your boys
at 2 or 3 am
and knowing then
what i know now
i would close my
and walk miles
in the cold country
fight you with
everything i had
even if your boys
came in, as i
and stomped me
i would lie my
on the thick,
dew covered grass
of my hometown
and laugh a crazy laugh
and spit the blood
out and laugh
and if you didn’t
i would be better
maybe better, some
than i am today
maybe i wouldn’t shake
or worry so much
maybe i’d be a better
i first heard your name the
winter of my returning home
you were the promise of respite,
a gentle wave lapping on the shore
your words were hyperbole and
placeholders for others and
you said i didn’t have to stay
or that you could go and
some years later it is finally
the morning after
the waves are garbage trucks
the sunlight is acidic
and my arm is rotting
from the paths you traveled,
my life in memory
is beautiful and eternal
and for moments in real-time
i can spend years in the past
and all the people
whom i’ve torn apart
are there in whole
we never waste time to catch up
and we just pretend like nothing
I – The Work of Faith
Yes. I have seen the cosmos.
The drudgery of crafting constellations
The slightest sleight of hand
Tipping moons and meteors into orbit.
Mundane as discarded fingernails.
But do not worry,
This monotony prepares a place for you.
Believe I am returning.
II – The Patience of Hope
Does my busywork fail to marvel you?
Messengers will speak my witness.
The solution is promised, but are you listening?
Mirrors cannot be convicted of perjury,
But their sentencing is always transparent.
See where the intercessor must stand?
I am sending one greater.
III – The Labor of Love
But of all these things, do you love me?
The ocean is vast, and waiting.
Let us set sail, and cast our nets to the other side.
Drown, won’t you, in this ocean I have made for you?
I have tasted the sands upon the shore of hell
It was while you were yet cursed, I died for you.
I have returned.