Détente

What if I loved you?

I ask him.

What if I loved how you

think about molecules

racing,

or slowing,

about color,

about owl calls in

the night?

Because I know you

do.

You are no weapon.

You are a boy who listens

to the flow of water in a

stream,

who once had a love affair

with equations.

We could end the war,

rather than start it.

George is quiet for a moment.

Well, he says, you will look

up the difference between

reptiles and amphibians

now, so there might be

something in all of this.

How much we will see.

There are still the dolls to

contend with.

Inevitability

I bumped into the memory man

the other day—

(we’ve been crossing paths often

lately)—

I listened to small things which

gave me small reactions.

But when he arched his eyebrows

as if asking, was I ready?

I left the memory man where

I found him and

conveniently forgot where

that place happened to be.

The only thing is that

he knows how to find me

he finds me every day

and every day he asks the question

and every day I say, “No thanks.”

One of these days, I guess.

It will be one of these days.

Goodbyes

            “It’s about Mom,” Jonah said.

            Still watching the game, Jack returned, “What about her?  Did she burn another pot roast on Sunday?”

            “Yeah.  And she’s got a brain tumor.”

            Jack whipped his head back toward Jonah.  “A what?”

            “A brain tumor.  They can’t operate on it.  Dad says she’s got a few months.”

            “To live?”

            “Yeah.”

            Jack sat back in the booth.  He looked as if someone had just hit him in the stomach with an empty beer pitcher.  “Holy shit,” he finally said.  “How long have you known?”

            “I found out on Sunday.”

            “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

            “I don’t think they’re really telling anyone.”

            No longer looking quite so shell shocked, Jack retorted, “Not even their own son?”

“Well…you know how they are.”

Jack snorted.  “Do I ever.  But only a few months…really?”

            Jonah nodded.

            “But she still has all of her hair and whatever!”

            “They’re notgoing to do chemo--it won't help.  So Mom doesn’t want it.”

            “What about Dad?”

            “He said it’s up to her.”

            “Oh, great.  He’s leaving critical life-or-death decisions up to the biggest ditz on the face of the planet,” Jack said, and grabbed his coat.  “I’m going over there.  Someone has to talk some sense into her, and it seems like I’m the only one in this family willing to do it.  I’ll see you later.”

              A couple of hours later Jack stomped back into Jonah’s living room.  “It’s amazing we were born with any brains in our head, considering the morons who conceived us,” Jack said bitterly.  “No chemo, no radiation, no nothing.  She’s just giving up.”

            “According to Dad, the doctors said it was hopeless.”

            “And since when do doctors know what the hell they’re talking about?  They were still using leeches on people like ten years ago!”

            “I don’t know about that-”

            “My point is, even if it’s a remote chance that treatment would work, isn’t a remote chance better than no chance?” Jack protested.  “I just can’t believe this.  I had no idea.”

            “Didn’t you notice she’s been acting weird lately?”

            “Who can tell?” Jack shot back.  “She’s always acting weird.  How was I supposed to know that this week it meant she had a fatal illness?”

Out of reach

They say riddles are clues

but clues in a fortress

If only the dragon would let me pass

Ah little girl, he says

you must solve the first riddle

to prove you are ready

I ask him what the first riddle is

and he laughs

He says that is why I am not ready

He says I know the words

No one stops my ears

but me

He says the riddle is my first clue

That I will hear it when I am ready

I say this is another trick

another stall

But he says no

he is the master of ceremonies only

I am in charge

I will know the riddle when I say it out loud

Gone Off and Lonesome

I have been pining for you, old friend

I have been searching my organs for

clues of your existence

I have been listening to the buzz of

the lamps, my friend

I have been understanding that we

are all without evidence

Because you are the intervening cause

you are where I buried my investments

I have been searching the heat registers for you

only to find cotton balls that missed the garbage

can

I have stood on my toes and screamed

through my stomach

I have flown off the linoleum by the force

of my breath

I plead to the cobwebs for you to listen

I wake up with charlie horses at 3 am

When I lost my travel book centuries ago

burned the ancient forest where

you were my favorite tree

You are the reality I cannot close in on

what flew through my hair that I

mistook for permanency

I would like a chance to hold you, old friend

I would like to touch your materialness

But I beat against the kitchen table instead

keeping time with rhythmic 
loneliness

Angels

            In the morning, after Rick had gone downstairs, I put on the dress I’d worn to the exhibition.  It felt like a crime against beauty, to just leave it hanging in the closet.  I then slipped out the backdoor and made my way to the cliffs.  After walking a little ways I found a decent spot, far from my usual destinations, and hidden by some trees. 

            For a while I stood there, staring down at the beach.  I thought about how Ethan would only take the kitchen garbage out if I removed the bag from the trash can first, whereas Rick always emptied it without my asking.  He was so perfect in so many ways.  But I could no longer navigate the warzone inside.  I hadn’t left a note for him—I hadn’t left a note for anyone—but he, of all people, would understand why.  As I watched a man walking his dog in the distance, I felt a wave of guilt.  It would be terrible for whoever found me.  I hoped they would forgive me for it. 

I lifted my foot off of the grass.   Just as I started to lean forward, something yanked me back.

            Rick. 

How had I not heard him come up from behind me?

            I tried to fight against him, but neither my strength nor my determination proved any match for his.  “Stop it!” he barked.  He was gripping both of my arms and gazing down upon me with an anguish I’d never known he could feel.  “There’s another solution,” he told me.  “One that doesn’t involve self-annihilation!”

            “No there isn’t,” I retorted.  “I’m so sorry, I don’t want to leave you, but I’ve tried everything-”

            “Stevie, listen to me,” Rick interrupted. 

Something about his voice made me go still. 

When I looked up into his eyes it was as if I could see all of space and time extending before me.  

The coming fire

The dragon is in the fireplace

I see his glowing eyes

this time I cannot be afraid

there are no clues only riddles

they whisper to me

The dragon smoulders so

near the butterflies

but they do not mind

I hear riddles all day long

words but not in English

no one wants me to know