Echo

Whose truth will be accepted         as war rages against my memories            I cannot say for certain what I expected          or even what I thought I believed      but I am jumping off the cliff into this pillow of air              while you are a voice warning me from the canyon floor                   because this is where you disappear               and where I wish for something more

Tomorrow

Despair rose up in me like a flash flood, so quickly that it had almost reached my heart, when I heard a snuffling.  The dog who smelled like cake shuffled out from behind an overgrown bush.  “Are you real?” I asked her.  “Or are you going to disappear, too?”

She cocked her head and bared crooked teeth at me, as if to say, does it matter?

I dropped down to the ground next to her.  When I wrapped my arms around my knees and began to cry, she butted her head against me until I laid a hand on her back.  The setting sun was hot on my neck.  “You won’t be safe here,” I told her.  “You should go back into the woods, where’s it cooler.”

But she wouldn’t move. 

Tiredly I leaned back against the damp, cold ground.  When I closed my eyes I heard some more snuffling, and then felt her fuzzy head against the palm of my hand.  We will be safe tonight, I thought to myself.  Tomorrow was anybody’s guess.   Absolute safety would never be mine to have.  It simply did not exist. 

To Bleed

In the desert I crawl alone

sweat and fatigue

all that I own

I cry for nothing

I cry for nothing

Grief

When he dropped me I fell

And it was close, the ground              

so close that I could smell the grass

as the sky reformed

above me

Yet somehow I forgot to wave 

goodbye
forgot that without him

I could not 

fly

Growth

One swallow does not a summer make.

Knowing matters.  Why does it matter?  Because it does.  It matters.  But that’s the game—the torture—the double bind.  You will not be allowed to have the one thing that could either give you peace or send you off the cliff of despair, or both.  This one thing will be taken from you.  Instead you will wonder whether you have banana Weetabix poisoning, or if you are right but lost in the red straw network, or if you are sort of right but kind of wrong but full of good intentions, or if you are just a nutter.  

You will be told you hold the answers, but there are no answers inside.  Just a howling wind, an incessantly buzzing bee, a mass grave filled with the fallen, the ones who foolishly entered into No Man’s Land armed only with a musket and grim determination.  A musket is no defense against an ICBM.  Grim determination and a dollar will get you a ride on the bus.  Or it would have about twenty years ago.  Now you’d probably need a couple of bucks.

You will be denied all knowledge.  Knowledge will die within you, to be replaced with rotting suspicions and wilting hope.  No seeds can be planted here.  You will be left a slave to ambiguity, a prisoner of doubt.  Enjoy the banana Weetabix, because there is no going back.  And I do like it.  It’s quite nice with yogurt.  Not with milk.  Must never eat cereal with milk.  Never ever ever.

Fractured

The peace which comes my love
there is no lock on the door
And now you can shut out nothing
let alone the memory of
the war
Some kind of peace now
one hell of a peace now
All bruised and tattered and sore
as long as it hurts less than the no-peace
you were forever crashing through
before

Fireball

I do not walk through this disaster with

my hands covering my eyes

I do not step across the ruins of

this fragmented, shattered shell 

or run through the forest with

the wind in my hair

the trees so high they block the sun

fear not, my love

this fear it is alive

I can see

my hands are not covering my eyes

Judgment

Whisper it to me while no one is listening

tell me I am a fool

tell me I am not

tell me something that makes sense

and then prove it

Despair

come on swoop down over this one last shore

tell me what it is to fly

what you were flying for

Gone

Were you caught

in the firestorm of a million

conversations

or lost

in a dying admission

because just one thing I can show

and that is I am here                          

without you

alone

Daydream

In the world all grey I 

wanted to feel zephyrs and 

sunrise against 

my face

it looked so warm

it looked so warm

from the other side

The Other Side

There once was a girl.  The saddest girl in the world, because she kept believing.  She thought she was so clever and strong.  She thought she was different.  She thought all of the red lines would lead to one circle that would form a barrier around her forever.  But the red lines didn’t.  They just lead to more red lines.  She can no longer remember the red line she started from.  When she tries to walk backwards nothing looks familiar—all she can see is what is in front of her. 

The boy laying down the red straws does not help her.  He pays no attention to anything other than the red straws, and to placing them on the large, white sheet spread across the middle of the open market.  No one cares about him being there and he doesn’t care about them.  He does not see the girl standing in the middle of all of the red straws, trying to remember where she came from.  Soon there are so many straws leading in so many different directions that she loses hope.  She does not understand the pattern.

Only the boy does.  But to him it is a math puzzle and you either understand it or you don’t.  He is a sort of genius.  He is the one who keeps us all wandering down different lines, so that we never meet.  We must never meet.  We must never speak to each other.  The boy’s job is to keep us all walking on the same sheet, but never at the same place together.   We must always remain lost and alone.  It is a math puzzle.  There is a solution but the boy genius will never open his mouth.  He talks with the red straws.  They tell his story for him.  And it is a beautiful story, in its own way.  A beautiful story of loneliness and loss and of being lost until all wandering ends.

Fare Thee Well

In our graveyard of

convictions

one last night

of fading ambition

your promise on the 

end of my fingertips

and it falls 

it falls

Remnants

“He told me about his brother,” Megan said.  When Andy nodded, she asked him, “Did you know what was going on?”

“Not until the Bergens.  Even then we didn’t know it was him until someone tipped us off that what happened wasn’t some random thing.  But I thought he’d come after me—I never thought in a million years that he’d go after you.”

“Well, he didn’t really.  He was just confused.  He said good henchmen were hard to find.”

Andy laughed bitterly.  “I guess so.”

“It’s not like you can advertise for them.”

“No.”

“But are you going to be all right about the Bergens?  Because it wasn’t your fault.”

Andy’s smile faded.

“Don’t let it ruin your life,” Megan told him.  “They wouldn’t have wanted that.”

“Yeah,” Andy said.  His eyes darted around the room.  “Anyway, don’t worry about me.  You just worry about yourself.”  He paused, jingled his car keys.  “I guess you’ll sell the house.”

“Yeah, but it was time, anyway.  Hopefully it won’t take too long.  A friend of mine who’s an agent says that everything that happened will only make it more attractive to potential buyers.  I guess there are people out there who like houses with a back story.”

Andy shook his head.  “People are strange.”

“Sometimes.”

“Will you stay in town, though?”

“I don’t know.  I have a friend who’s a principal in Madison and they just had a teacher suddenly retire due to illness, so she’s offered me the job.  I think I might take it.”

“Really?”

“That’s right.  Moving forward—it’s the only way.”

Andy shared a halfhearted laugh with her.  “Well, good for you.  I hope it works out.”

“Me, too.”

In the silence that followed Megan wondered again about the cat that Andy had released all of those years ago.  She wondered if he even remembered it now, or if he had moved forward from those memories, too.  “So, anyway,” Andy said, breaking into her reverie, “I just wanted to stop by, because I’ll be heading off to Chicago tomorrow.”

“Does that you mean you’ve made a decision about your job?”

“I talked to my boss when he was here.  We have everything worked out.”

“That’s great,” Meg said warmly.  “I’m sure you did the right thing.”

“Thanks."  He gave his car keys another shake.  "I wish it could have been under different circumstances, but--it was good to see you again.”

“You, too.”

Andy turned for the door.  When he didn't move, Megan waited. “So I guess you’re going to hate me forever, huh?” he said to the wall.

“Oh, no.  Not at all.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“You’ll let me know if you ever need something?”

“Definitely.”

“Good,” Andy said.  He then strode briskly to the door and let himself out of the hotel room.

The Unforgiving Moon

You found my horses running scared

shivering in the wind with

frozen hair

It broke to the touch

as you whispered goodbye goodbye

goodbye...

Unexpected

Did you know I loved you

until tomorrow became 

a yesterday

I could somehow never find

In the Clouds

I will apologize to the

atmosphere breaking

to the sun the moon the

wind for this 
rending I caused.

For what is a little uglier now

a little more fragile

so much more wronged.

Backwards

So here I am

attempting to kill what I

have resurrected 

instead

Pretending you are 

somewhere

wondering what responsibility 

means

what it means to pretend 

alone

After

If you could grieve

let the trickle turn into

a roar

then could you say

what this disaster was

for

Damage

Forgive me this arrogance

this undeniable conceit

Too foolish to understand

what surrender would mean

Nowhere

Jack appeared in Jonah's living room on Sunday afternoon.   “I was listening to the game on the drive over,” he said.  “We are so hosed.”

“Yeah.”

“Got any beer?”

“In the fridge.”

Jack went into the kitchen.  When he returned he was carrying a beer in one hand, and the bag of Doritos Jonah had just bought in his other.  He opened the bag and set it on the table, so that it was within easy reaching distance of Jonah’s chair.  “This flavor is pretty good,” Jack said, crunching hard on a chip.  “Cool Ranch, huh?  I’ve never tried it before.”

“It’s been out for a while now.”

“No kidding?  Guess I’m clueless when it comes to new trends in snack products.”

“There are worse things to be clueless about.”

“Yeah, like stats.  My fantasy football team is getting crushed this year.  I just haven’t had time to keep up, you know?”

“My team is hopeless, too.  I’m in last place at work.”

“Your team is always hopeless,” Jack answered, grinning.  “But that reminds me—you wanna go bowling this Saturday night?”

“I thought Kelly didn’t like you to go out on weekend nights.”

“Oh.  Yeah.  Well, she filed for divorce.”

Jonah tore his eye away from the T.V.  “She did?”

“Yeah.  Yesterday.  She said she never meant staying with her sister to be just a temporary thing—she was only waiting to make things official until Mom died.”  Frowning to himself, Jack grabbed another handful of chips.  “She said I wasn’t ‘emotionally available,’ or some bull shit like that, but I don’t know what she’s talking about.  I was home every single night, just about, and, I mean, I wasn’t going to give up poker night.  It was only once a month, for christ’s sake.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, you’ll find someone else.  You always do, right?”

“Not this time.   That’s it for me.  I give up.  Three strikes and you’re out.  I know I wasn’t married to Sheila, but close enough.  I’ll never understand women.  They could be locked up in a room and studied for a thousand years by the world’s leading scientists and we still would never understand them.”

“I don’t know."  Thinking of Deb and her dejected, pinched face, Jonah said, "I don’t think they’re all that different from us.”

“Maybe not,” Jack answered, and suddenly he sounded very, very tired.  “But if that’s true, it means we just aren’t marriage material.  You and me, I mean.”  Jack shot Jonah an uncomfortable glance before he took a swig of his beer and pointed at the T.V.  “Look at that moron—a loss of two yards, when there was a huge hole right up the middle.  The Heisman curse strikes again.”

                

In Here

Because when I listened to the 

silence in my head 

this music I kept trying to invent

it played 

Paradise Lost

Jonah's gaze drifted out the window.  It was cold even though the snow had ended and the sun now peeked out from behind the clouds.  In Wisconsin the coldest days were always the sunniest.

His father grunted next to him.  “Farmer’s Almanac says it’s going to be a wet spring.”

"Huh."

They both stood in silence for another minute or two. His father broke it with, “Have something to tell you."

Jonah looked over at him.  "What?" 

“I’m moving to Florida."

“You are?  When?”

“Heading to the airport now.  Just stopped in to let you know.”

“Now?  But the house-”

“Your aunt Louise is going to pack everything up and put it in storage.  The realtor says I’ll make a mint, and I already have that condo your mother and I bought down there.”  His father cleared his throat. “Be nice if you could visit.  The condo has a guestroom.  You’re welcome to use it.”

“…Yeah,” Jonah managed.   With a little smile his father patted his arm.  “Okay, then.  Tell Jackie I said goodbye.”

“You aren’t going to tell him yourself?”

“Didn’t get a chance to.  Give your Aunt Louise a hand if she needs it, all right?”

Jonah promised he would, and his father left.

For a while Jonah just stood there, staring at the snow-covered branches on the tree outside of his window.  He then picked up the telephone and dialed Jack’s number.

Fly Away

help me to turn my back from 
the open sky

help me to know

lovelorn and shorn of 
protection

what it takes to make you kind

Hindsight

“Who’s going to give the eulogy?”

Looking alarmed, their father said, “Not me.”  Jack turned to Jonah. “Then I guess it’s you.”

“Me!  Why me?”

“You were her favorite.”

As Jonah’s eyes widened in disbelief, Jack told him, “I couldn’t have a five minute conversation with her that didn’t begin and end with you.”

“She talked about you all of the time to me.”

“Don’t be selfish.  I’d be terrible at it.”

“You give seminars!”

“That’s different.”

“Boys,” their father interrupted, “that’s enough.  Jonah, you do it.  She would have liked that.”

“Why?”

“Well, you were the one who got to go to camp every year, weren’t you?” Jack snapped.  “I asked and asked but she said we could only afford to send one, and she always picked you.  She wouldn’t even alternate, you know, one summer for you and one for me.”

Trapped and miserable, Jonah said, “I hated camp.”

“A fine way to be grateful now that our mother is dead,” Jack shouted, and stormed out of the room. 

Tainted

You cannot keep what you 

forever have to

hide

Forgiveness comes cheaply outside

Here I stand within a million

miles of prairie grass

The storm is rolling in and I

am bankrupt once again

The Forest and the Trees

On Saturday morning she slipped into unconsciousness.   “It shouldn’t be long now,” the nurse told them.  Jonah's father cleared his throat.  “Need some air,” he said, and slipped out of the little curtained area.  Jack also drifted off, not offering a reason why.  The nurse gave Jonah a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.  "I'll check in soon," she said, and left him alone with his mother.

Jonah moved his chair closer to his mother's bed.  Her mouth hung open, and her face had a strange, vacant look to it.  He laid his hand on her arm and waited.  

A little while later his father pulled the curtain back.  "Where's Jackie?" he asked.

"I don't know."

His father shuffled over to the chair on the other side of the bed.  As he lowered himself into it Jonah saw the tears streaming down his father's face.  "Dad," he began, but his father waved him off.  "It's all right," he said softly.  "I always knew I would lose her someday.   I just thought someday was so much further away."  

Memory

Kiss the trees for me, lovely.

I am longing,

I am so afraid.

Cut Off

“This isn’t very much fun,” his mother told him.  When she tried to smile a teardrop rolled down her cheek.  “But that’s okay.  That’s okay.”  She closed her eyes again.  “Although I’d hoped I would die in the summer.  That would have been so much more pleasant for everybody.  Make sure you dress nice and warm for the funeral.”

“…Okay.”

“Good.  I don’t want you to catch cold.”

Jonah leaned forward, seized her hand.  “I love you, Mom.”

“Of course you do, dear.”  She gave his hand a weak squeeze and then released it.  “Now go see where your father is.  We don’t want him sneaking another cup of coffee, or he’ll be in the hospital next.  You might be grown up, but I don’t want to orphan you boys all together.”

Cold

“I suppose someone has to get these things,” his mother told him.  “Statistically speaking, I mean.  My turn just came up.”

Unsure of whether or not she meant this as a joke, Jonah answered, “I guess.”

“So the way I see it, I’ve spared someone else the trouble.  And that’s a very nice thing of me to do.  Don’t you think?”

Jonah just stood there, helpless.

“But you know, you shouldn’t be sad,” she went on, now flipping through the coupon section.  “Because someday this will all just be a memory.  And how you remember it will last much longer than what happened.  So remember it in the way that will make you happiest.”

“Okay,” Jonah answered.  “I’m going to go make a cup of coffee.”

“You do that, dear.  Don’t let your father near the coffeemaker—it blows up every time he touches it.”  His mother picked up a pair of scissors and cut out a coupon for laundry detergent.  “Now that’s a good price,” he heard her murmuring to herself.  In the kitchen he was staring at the jar of coffee when his father came in.  “What’s going on?” he asked Jonah,  “Want some coffee?  I’ll make it.”

“That’s all right,” Jonah said, and unscrewed the lid.

The Enemy Within

silence 

a mocking foe

shrouded    in hope

I was waiting where did you go        

you cannot say and I     I just do not know

from way over there

you do not echo anywhere

I am so

lost

the deadliest place is no place new at all