Friday, 11 December 2015

Truth


Dismantled piece by piece into
a million parts
buried back with Santa at
the Christmas tree farm
what is dead is what is real to
the falling apart
we heard the siren but not the
alarm

I wonder how I will know when
the sky becomes my master
when dreams of yesterday stop
mocking me with laughter
tomorrow is today tornadoes
circling my trailer
I was wrong over
and over again

Thursday, 10 December 2015

The unexpected dawn


October 23, 2004

I don’t want this to be my life anymore.

October 24, 2004

But how to give up?  I don’t seem able.

Wednesday, 9 December 2015

The life within

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

Tuesday, 8 December 2015

The glass darkly


And when I choose to come here again                                                                     
will it snow how it did in my dreams
                        will I be

a story worth telling

                                    because the sadness—

it crackles in the night
           
for you           
the mistake worth regretting

                                                the faraway voice        filled with belonging


Monday, 7 December 2015

The path not taken


            “Alturis told me about his brother," Megan said. "How you shot him during a raid."
            Andy nodded a little.
            “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 managed a grim smile.  “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,” she 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.  “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.”
            “People are strange,” Andy said, and rolled his eyes.   For a brief moment Megan thought of Alturis, smiling at her as he talked about how Andy stood on her street corner at night.  But Andy, looking in the opposite direction and fiddling with his car keys, did not notice the change in her facial expression.  “So will you stay in town, though?”
            “Well...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.”
            “Yeah,” Andy said, grinning at her reference.  “Well, good for you.  I hope it all works out.”
            “Me, too.”
            In the silence that followed Megan wondered again about the cat who Andy had released all of those years ago.  She wondered if he even remembered it now, or if he had moved forward from all of those memories, too.  “So, anyway,” Andy said, “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 the FBI?”
            “I talked to my boss when he was here.  We have everything worked out.”
            “That’s great,” Megan said.  She smiled at him.  “Good luck with everything.”
            “Thanks.  And, Meg—it was good to see you again.”
            “You, too.”
            After a brief hesitation Andy turned toward the door.  Before he reached it, he said to the wall, “So I guess you’re going to hate me forever, huh?”
            “Oh, no.  Not at all.”
            “You sure?”
            “I'm sure.”
            “You’ll let me know if you ever need something?”
            “You can be sure of it.”
            “Good,” he said.  And without daring to meet her eyes, he let himself out of the hotel room.

Explosions in time


This sea                                 filled with raging suspicions

polluted by the debris         of 1000 amazing inventions

not one in which I could believe

were you caught
in the fire storm 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

                

Sunday, 6 December 2015

Waiting


The bus began to pull away.  Ignoring the kids throwing paper airplanes around him, Jonah pressed his face against the glass.  As his mother waved at him he gripped the edge of the windowpane, willing himself not to cry.  Someday, he told himself.  Someday I will never have to do anything I don’t want to ever again.