Archive | April 2012


Open the curtains.
Let the darkness in.
Such a liar,
And wholly insignificant–
Fraught with daydreams and distractions.

Don’t look at them —
These choices can’t be unmade.
And without them,
What is left,
My friendless misanthrope?

Supposing you set
Your intentions to right,
Plant it in the rocky soil —
Another decade of cultivation —
You know what comes next.
No one can sustain so long
An effort unsupported.

And no,
This is not where I meant to be,
Overgrown with weeds
And relying on roots alone
To get through another season.

And no,
I do not want to relinquish this,
Even if it is
A mirage,
A facade,
A fantasy.

And no,
I do not want to admit
The truth of the lie.

But yes,
However haphazardly chosen,
This is my soil now
To tend.

And yes,
It is time
To release
These shadows.

And yes,
I acknowledge
The never known,
And can choose now
To call it by its true name.

But love,
It can be so sweet.
And I hate the taste
And texture
Of these ashes
On my tongue.



My toes point north
And slightly west.
I try to release the river,
But it is tenacious.

An early spring,
A knife in the back —
These the circumstances
That conspire against intention.

And all the misplaced, unwanted
Collect there–
Would take a month of hard labor
Just to raise it an inch from the bottom.

And I don’t have it in me–
The walk or the work–
So I point my toes north
And slightly west.

How can spring be so sad?
I should let this river go,
But, like I said,
It’s tenacious.

I created this fictional fuel,
And all these words went to the water
And looked in to a reflection distorted
By the constant movement of thin hands.

If it were not forbidden,
I would send them to you,
These feathers
And papers.

I would set feet and hands in motion,
And cross wood with steel to make more
Of vegetable and mineral —
The chemistry of sustenance.

And, maybe, in sustaining you
I might reach it,
That deep water,
And slow the inevitable decline.