Friday, December 25, 2009

20 - The Last Kit

The world, to me
it is my child's shine
no clouds, or greener grass
or wind
his hair
the scent of his hair

The skyline, at night
it is deeper than hurt
no birds, or lost wishes
or words
your eyes
the center of your eyes

This sunrise is perfect- this one, just for today
And tomorrow's- I dare not speculate

Thursday, December 24, 2009

New Sentinels and comforters
Of the missing
Stand up today
Be seen, heard and counted on
Into the ranks, I enlist
Without care
But caring nonetheless

Breathless Caretakers and old
Missives, wandering the lawns
And dunes
The edge of steel and plastic and glass is where I stand
And I reach out quietly

Your place is set
You told me one million things
About me with those four words

Sequels and infant stars arrive
I have stepped out from the Shadow
I breath breathes of air and nervousness and excitement and the vapor trails of Louisiana

What are you waiting for?
The question hums
And drugs sing and crawl my skin
And I remember what will happen someday

I can lie back and smile
Thoughts of your hand in mine
Fingers crushing air between them as they weave
As I breathe harder for a second and a half
It is not the word or the threats the make up that work,
But the dead winter grass under-foot

Your eyes smile like lost television screens
Like Sentinels and Converters
Like the Lake...
And Thunder

Ghostwave Commons

There is no division so vast or so great that we cannot overcome it
There are no tired wheels so worn-out that they cannot roll and roll
and roll

There is no sky-scraping sorrow so deep that I would not care
No miles, or markers or posts can dissuade
No broken plans that cannot be remade

Step out into the commons
The tide rises and the cold, black water comes up to your ankles
The prey fish swim about
as if they know their time is up
Reach out your hand and feel the breeze, solar born and staid
it is me, calling through slow staircases and headaches and lack of sleep-
Still wanting you

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

codebook reboot

you are my 3 a.m.

1.2 wt

"Don't be so far away"
The letter reads
I bit my lower lip as I thought about it

Your eyes, how they shine
In pictures and in memories-
Of what has come and what I wish for
Simple animals they are, memories

Nightly, I rewrite my letter to you
Do you see it?
It is in songs and in laughter
It is in "I miss you"
This letter

I fold it each night when I offer a tiny farewell
I always mean to comeback,
So 'goodbye' will never do
I just can't say it now
Or ever

I send you this letter every day and night
At the table, eating breakfast alone
At the sink, trying to muster the energy to drag myself in to work
At my desk, work suffering for a chance to think of your eyes and pictures
I make sure to remember them
And you
Daily

Each day, in a way, I send it
My letter to you
Telling you that I-

description of materials

On fire
Burned
Reborn
Revived
Told you would fit in fine
(I don't feel like I fit in)
Anymore
Anyday
The at-long-last guns fire
And it makes me feel as though my time and days and feelings and dreams-
Stolen
All taken away

Pressure against the rib cage
Dry tongue, eyes stinging

Moreover, the world continues
Fast-moving senators and prostitutes and their children
I am nothing like them
I am the outside through
Smoke windows
Through blank walls
Through it all
On fire

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

What Do You Think About When You see My City in a Sad New Piece?

I wish you would have come through town at night
I would have loved to have shown you all of its lights