Sunday, July 24, 2016

Time to get up

Now I guess her silence is the least of my worries:
there's something to be said for the immediate threat,
for the rest of it going to shit

From inertia to terminal velocity
the earth is rising fast, promising to flatten you against it
stop flailing and can't believing it

And think

Friday, July 15, 2016


Mid-July and the first real hot night of the summer. If she was here you'd have brought the air conditioner up from the basement, but you content yourself with the quiet and the drone of the fan. You don't really need much.

Tonight, the super market, two half-gallons of lactose free milk, two chicken breasts, and a box of Devil Dogs. You're singing twenty-nine dollars and an alligator purse. Small children notice walking past. Their heads turn all the way around at you. You unbutton the second button of your shirt and untuck it, feeling half drunk without having drank a drop. In the front of the store,  the two lines are long - 9 pm, Friday night - staffed by two teenaged cashiers who want to be anywhere else.

The faces of the people are vacant, waiting on line for diminishing returns. Your time is running out even faster here, and breathing seems harder. Though you have nothing better to do, you will not spend it this way.

Swearing aloud down the aisle, disproportionally angry, you retrace your steps replacing each item exactly where you picked it up. You are not, after all, on the side of chaos. But you are making a stand for liberty.

You think about what losing a job at fifty means, about not belonging anywhere, and then revisit the thing about not really wanting to stay on the planet at all, but there is this agreement you've agreed to.

"U.S.M.C, motherfucker!" someone in your head laughs, "U Signed the Motherfucking Contract".

You march out of the supermarket, tall and slow, forsaking groceries entirely. The parking lot is darker and bleaker then when you came in.  The sky above features an interesting dark cloud bank that seems a looming mountain range in the fading light. There's a high chunk of bright moon up there too. 

In Every Dream Home A Heartache...

Friday, July 8, 2016


We watched his body slowly tilt
And his eyes roll heavenward,
To where heaven should have been,
While the others there were shooting
Bullets and footage
His crimson tee shirt
His unprevented expiration.

What else besides this man died today?

What else will come to life?

I never ever thought it otherwise...