Abandoned

This one last time                    come along with me                you run so slow I lost you centuries ago                     now is not where you said you would be               leaving me alone and out of breath                    this breakdown in the making                        where are you love      where are you sleeping            I am awake I am all aware      that I am here and you are there                         you do not belong to me         you do not belong to me

Yesterday's storm

There are many ways to die.  She died believing she had survived.  But all that survived were her involuntary functions, like breathing, and hoping.  Everything that moved under direction was murdered.  There can be no free will.  There can be nothing left that opens all of the doors in the hallway.  There can be no way through the red straw network.  There can only be walking.  Walking and walking and walking.  And there must be acceptance.  Her life was forfeit.  It was never meant to be practiced.  It was meant to be sacrificed to the greater cause.  If only the buffoon hadn't been such a buffoon.  The great buffoon who accidentally saved them all by being so very useless and weird.  It does not matter who you are or where you came from if you are weird, and, therefore, unpredictable.  Close counts in more than just horseshoes and hand grenades.

He was a fool.  Even with fools he could not fit in.  He was a fool who fools despised, because he did not know he was weird.  His genius brain betrayed him.  Everything and everyone betrayed him.  It was a family full of nuclear silences.  The bomb has yet to go off.  Instead the leaking radiation is killing us all.

Memory selection

                                                                                               

This is my heart in denial
the scratching of the diamond

against the vinyl

I was young once it seems

and I spun your etched

reflection inside

of me

But reality is the toe breaker

is the dance

is the false teeth sitting

innocent in the glass

Unwound

January 1, 1983

Dear Diary,

Yesterday my mom went to the hospital for 2 weeks.  My dad came to stay with us.  He’s a little too organized and clean.  I love him a lot though.  I miss Mom already.  Today me, Steve, and Dad went to get Dad’s stuff.  Grandpa was a little grouchy.  I haven’t seen Joan since last night.  She’s always with Brian.  I like Brian, though.  I called Mom today.  She made 2 friends and is doing better.

Waiting

No telling how the earth will

record this disaster

whistling dixie in the wind

as if I had the answer

            ballet with fractured form

tripped up by vengeful rapture

the hammer flung against

the wall

Fire Dance

            “How charming,” Alturis said, laughing.  “But now you must come out from under there.”

            “Why should I?”

            “For a lot of reasons, most of them mine.  And for some of your own as well.  Aren’t you a little bit like a fish in a barrel right now?”

            “You’re just going to kill me anyway.”

            “But you won’t have a chance to escape unless you come out.”

            Megan frowned.  That was a good point.

            “Besides,” Alturis added, “you are much too old to be hiding underneath the bed.”

Before and After

The clock

            is a lie that

                        I must keep

                                    unwound

Predictability

a lucky thing

A coin with two heads

or two tails

                        as the case may be

And yet too late

just one second too late