Monday 31 July 2017

Unfinished


Jack was oddly quiet as Kitty laid a bouquet of flowers on the grave.  “What do you think he was like?” he asked her.

“Well…”  Kitty paused, searching for the words to explain the complicated grandfather Jack would never be allowed to remember.  In a way she envied him that.  Her own memories rubbed against her, the hair shirt she was condemned to wear.  “He looked smart to me, but at the same time like someone who could appreciate a joke.  And a little sad.”

“What do you think he was sad about?”

“Maybe that he didn’t have his family anymore.”

“That’s a good reason.”  Fiddling with a blade of grass, Jack said, “I hope I don’t die alone.”

“You won’t,” Kitty told him.  “I promise.”



Sunday 30 July 2017

Another Again



How we hope
craft fact into fiction
little triumphs
of rationalization
but in the end it
plays in our ears
that same old song
try again, my love
stop looking for wisdom
once again you are
nature’s victim
take a deep breath
carry on
nothing more to see here
you were wrong

Falling Off



That night in Christine’s guest room it took me ages to fall asleep—only Daisy’s canine snores assured me that I was safe.  When I did finally drift off, I found myself in the meadow I could never paint.  Sitting in the grass, leaning back on my hands, I felt the warm sun on my face.  The dragon, however, was nowhere to be seen.  

Awake again in the morning, I felt bereft.  Even my dragon had left me.

At breakfast Christine set a small padded envelope on the table.  “I don’t know if now is the best time,” she told me, “but I promised Rick I would give you this.” 

I recoiled.

“No problem," she said, withdrawing the envelope.  "I’ll just hold on to it until you’re ready.”

Silence descended between us.  And then I asked, “How was he?”

“Quiet.  Unhappy.”

“How often did you see him?”

“Just a couple of times.  Daisy stayed with him while I was with you at the hospital.  He didn’t leave until he knew I could take care of her.”

I almost smiled, thinking about how much Daisy would have liked that.  But then the almost-smile faded from my face.  At least Daisy had been able to say goodbye.

Saturday 29 July 2017

The Sharp Side of the Blade




The not knowing
its claws steal tiny bits 
until you are twitching
on the floor 
a breathing corpse 
no before or after
only today
bloody ragged today 
its pins in all of your
sore places 
as you stare at your 
own face 
upside down in the mirror
for something that can 
be turned

the needles 
     
they poke and they prod     
ensure none of the neurons 
are working             

so one small dog
sleeps curled up in  
a ball
while I
I know nothing at all
only that in the end
everything is a lie
that small dogs do not 
live forever
and neither will I 

Friday 28 July 2017

Yesterday Visions



I wish I could be cleaner that I could stand up
I would stand up and tear
out pages that make me sad
but there is no reason to give up anymore
the dragon in the elevator is our friend
he blows smoke so I cannot see
the smoke hurts my eyes
but better the smoke than the dream
if my eyes water it isn’t the same
as crying
I do not cry
I am a bunny in a hutch
the hutch is safe
but I want to be out
with the other bunnies

The dragon is in the fireplace
I see his glowing eyes
this time I cannot be afraid
he hears the dog howl too
if only I could howl along
there are no clues just riddles
the dog only wants to be home
I wish I could help him
but like me his home is long
gone

Thursday 27 July 2017

Intervention


For the first time since my marriage, the dragon visited my dreams that night.  As we stood facing each other in the meadow I could never paint, I told him, “You were right.  I don’t love them.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.  “I hope you don’t feel responsible.”

“The worst lies are the ones we tell ourselves.  But, please—do you know who he is?”

“Of course.  So do you.”

My shoulders slumped.  “I knew you wouldn’t tell me.  I’m just so tired.”

“Then wake up,” the dragon answered.  “You’ve been asleep long enough.”

With a start I opened my eyes.  When I glanced over at Rick, he was sleeping soundly next to me.  It was almost morning.

Wednesday 26 July 2017

Lifting the Veil


You think you know.  But you will never know.  You are trapped in the network.  The hallway has no exit.  The bicycle has no wheels.  If you step outside of the red lines there is nothing to stand on.  You will fall, and not remember how to scream.  Because you are a story I sold for a million howls of laughter.  For a million screams of pleasure.  I tore you into tiny pieces and gave those pieces to anyone who asked.  No one cared then, and no one cares now.  You cannot escape what you were meant to be: a piece of lint to be flicked away, blown into nowhere.

Nice try.

Don’t tell me you don’t know
don’t tell me you don’t know

here we are and away we go...


Tuesday 25 July 2017

Looking In


because your shame hid away
a slow game come to play again
the mercy you traded
bursting with color
and what you thought finished
only just started

Monday 24 July 2017

Above the Earth




It was algebra class 
Mr. Wallace
I'd been gone
days 
weeks 
months.
Somehow I'd made it
back.
Suddenly a shout 
He has a gun.  
Running, screaming.
I saw him.

Found a phone. 
Dialed 911
they put me on hold.
He's here.
More running, screaming.
Outside, scattered
my feet too heavy
to lift.

He followed, not alone.
A girl.
Laughing.
Look at how frightened 
they are!

I climbed a brick wall
fell into a ditch.
The girl took the gun
shot me in the heavy
foot.
Aimed again
missed. 
Barely.

I crawled away.
Limped through a
cemetery full of
holes.
Went down side streets
through empty houses
until, at last 
almost home.

But like the boy
I was no longer alone.

The girl 
she walked beside me
her eyes queer and scary.
I tried to make small talk
the weather. 
She listened
said nothing.

Into my house.
No help.
Crept up the stairs
called the police 
She's here.
Nothing.

I am still holding the phone.
She is standing in the doorway.
Did you call the police?
Oh no.
Just talking to
a friend.
She doesn't believe me.
Why should she?
She comes over
whispers into my ear
Don't do it.
Think of all the lives 
you are about to
ruin.



Sunday 23 July 2017

Bubbling Under



I was staring at myself in the mirror when Bryan rapped on the locked bathroom door.  “Rache,” he said, “come out.  I promise all I want to do is to talk.”

From his shortening of my name I knew there would be no recriminations for what I had done.  Problem was, I hadn’t a clue where to go from here—or even who I was .  “I hit you,” I said softly.  “I really hit you.”

“It’s okay.  I’m fine.  Just come out, all right?”

The skinny girl in the mirror shook her head.  The hollowness in her eyes betrayed the hollowness of her heart.  “I’m sorry,” I told her.  “I honestly am.  But I’m done.”

Sounding suspicious, Bryan said, “What do you mean, you’re done?”

“Exactly what you think I mean,” I answered, and with that Bryan pounded on the door with significantly more force than he had before.  As my devoted nurse during those long weeks of recovery, he knew that in addition to a variety of sharp objects, my medicine cabinet housed a vast assortment of potent pain pills—pain pills that I now had unrestricted access to.  “Rachel,” he shouted, “open the fucking door!”  

I read once that people who decide to kill themselves are happy, because they finally know what it is they need to do.  But I didn’t feel happy at all.  Just terribly, terribly sad.  “I can’t do that,” I answered him.  "It’s too late.”  Looking at the bruise spreading across my knuckles, I whispered, “I’m finished with this fucked up life.”


Saturday 22 July 2017

This is My Only Truth


You can whistle but 
the monster
he does not hear

How to be helpful
not judgmental
She is afraid
She always
will be


Friday 21 July 2017

The Beginning of the End


The house was empty
only went to check on it.
Everyone had disappeared
except for Grandpa
he'd just died.

The living room door was
open
the little dog ran away 
down to the basement.
Come back.

He did 
but not alone.
With her.

One of the missing 
Where have you been?
She didn’t know 
couldn't remember.
A strange air of contentment 
years lost to--what?

No answer.

I am not so brave anymore

Don't make me disappear
or sleep in the basement
let me be in the open 
I will never tell
I swear.

Thursday 20 July 2017

Disruption of the System



Jump out of my throat
I will catch 
me
I can’t I don’t want to
run away run away run away

Coward
yes
and why not
it’s the hair he doesn’t like

there is a story here
sometimes birds eat other
birds’ eggs
nothing to be done about it

I want to be here
let me be here
stop pulling at my
lungs
my chest
I need them
I need them all

Wednesday 19 July 2017

Backwards


I know what hate is,
she said.
I know how to hate them
I know how to hate
myself.

So they sent her to someone who
could teach her to
forgive.
He had nothing to do with
God or Christs 
nailed to 
crosses.

It took a long time but
she learned
she learned not
to trust.  

Where is the forgiveness?
they asked.

God or the devil took it
away.
And now whatever you think
you’re going to
hear
is exactly what I am 
not
going to 
say.

Tuesday 18 July 2017

Running Away



My head hurts.

Hmmmn, says George.

Yes.

George shrugs.  Sorry, but I can’t help you there.
Have you seen the statue?

What statue?

The statue, he says.  In the
middle of the courtyard.

I don’t go in the courtyard.

I suppose not, George replies.  You don’t
really go anywhere.

No.  Neither do you.

I’ve got the dolls with knives to
worry about, he reminds me.  What’s
your excuse?

It’s not just the dolls, I answer. 
Everything has knives.


Monday 17 July 2017

Resurrection




Because roadsides exist
for the weary
the unsuspecting
Other than this we can expect
no more compassion
no more understanding
Justifications echo loudly
when even unintentional 
homicide
is death

Sunday 16 July 2017

Beholden No More


Her glassy eyes drove me mad.  In a fit of rage, I took the doll into the kitchen and grabbed a knife.  She said something in that dull, mechanical voice of hers as I slapped her down on the counter, but I refused to listen.  I raised the knife high in the air.  Like a human guillotine I then slammed it down across her neck. 

Her round plastic head jerked back, separated from its body.  She had time to cast me only one last glassy-eyed look before her head fell off the counter.  It rolled along the floor until it came to rest underneath the sink.

I laid the knife down.  With some uncertainty, I pushed my fist into her dolly stomach, but nothing happened.  She was silent at last.

I had killed it.  I had killed the purple witch’s doll.

Saturday 15 July 2017

Unleashed




you cannot come back they whispered into her ear
you belong to us but we don’t want you here
so now she skips off into a night without end
she looks behind her for the plagues they might send
i am one of them whether i am here or there
i am one of them my life you cannot spare
la la la la you cannot break the wall
la la la la it is a hundred feet tall
guarded all around by a thousand beastly men
their axes and their spikes pointed square at her neck
la la la la here it is I smile
la la la la we knew all the while
hum dum de dum together we will go
hum dum pu dum ours is not to know

Friday 14 July 2017

The Ethics of Survival



we are not winners
we are mantras  
inspirational quotes on 
a poster
curling up in the corners
the two-sentence explanation
emptier than memories of
Christmas
we are the ones who know
up here not down there
next year will be no different 
go ahead
lay siege to our fortress 
we are winning at failure
you will never stop us

Thursday 13 July 2017

In This World




Where is                                  here I am        

gone home without you

when I would rocket from the world
out of an ocean impossibly asleep                                     

is the rain your final call

because I am wondering what this was for
           
why you ever loved me
why you do not anymore

there is no witness here
only ghosts of words that nudged into breath

the shape of a fool      shivering and wet       

your blanket thrown over the bed one cold night too late
 my eyes, heavy with dreams 

but you—                  
very much awake

how I welcomed the chance to be wrong

to never ask why you had to leave
why you had to come at all

was it to drift away from this eroding shore

or was it
not wanting to be sorry
not wanting to be felt sorry for

one last secret for memory to keep

Now our half-truths ship out
under cover of a cloud-filled sky
the sun you once spoke of
never any friend of mine
                                   
can you feel it rain
can you?