Monday, 19 September 2016

War


I don’t really know what to say.  Well, I do, but I don’t want to write it down.  I want to obliterate it into a million zillion pieces.  I want to turn them into cartoon characters I can erase, or I can crumple up and throw away.  I want to fly in the stars I want to fall splat on the ground.  This could go on forever.  Fat and wore cheap suits.  There, how’s that for something?

How much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?

There is a party conference going on and no one is winning.

Sunday, 18 September 2016

After

the place you fell down from

                                                was the air so pure up there
                                that before you could warn me I
might find you

                                    in the rustling of the trees  

you lost your breath
                and I was trapped
                under this avalanche of leaves        



Deluded


“She’s a kook,” he said, “but a lovable one.  She has absolutely no common sense whatsoever.  It doesn’t seem to matter what happens to her—it all filters the same.  So of course she attracts the wrong kind of people.”

Saturday, 17 September 2016

A Simple Life

I do not know the riddle
I am tired, and I am not well
I cannot be alone
I am scared and exhausted with the effort
of being awake
It feels like I have been awake forever
I dream of snow
of running in it
of hearing the crunch of my footsteps
on the ice
I dream of diving into the water
so deep
and not needing air
I wish I had never seen it
never heard of it
never known it
I wish I could only remember it
as I ran in the snow

All very poetic, the dragon says
but you told me once
that wishing will not make it so
will you not join us here?
Not even the butterflies are
afraid

I am not well, I repeat
I want none of your riddles
I only want peace

There is the problem, my child
there will be no peace until
you speak the words
You knew this long ago

Safety


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

Clutching her battered teddy bear against her chest, Megan returned, “Why should I?” 

“For many reasons, some of them yours.  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.”


Friday, 16 September 2016

Catch 22


I am not well, I tell the dragon.
Still.

Yes.  I know.

My head hurts 
It feels strange 
I don’t know what normal is anymore but
I want to remember
I want to remember what it
felt like to hold my head in place
to not feel as if it was either going to
fly off
or pull me down to the
bottom of the ocean and
hold me there
an anchor I cannot escape
I am not allowed those memories anymore
I am not allowed any memories at all

Maybe if you asked.

I don’t want to ask

Then what do you expect?

I don’t know
Nothing
And that is the problem.


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