Sum

the float of fragments

the boundaries within borders

the severed

the dislocated

the lost

time gnashes at the whole

to erode the stone into sand

and cast the grains into 

the deep beyond the sky

our broken bodies are laid

into earth to be crushed by its appetite

and disassemble into the remains of the soil

we leave bits of ourselves with that time

and this event

and that person who we never knew

and become the stones becoming sand

surrendering ourselves to the inevitable

of never remaining wholly as is

those pieces we were

those pieces we remain

as they become more than we are

as they become the sum of our selves

The zone creep

not that it needs to be mentioned

but it's not looking good

especially when no one

seems to be able to agree

or perhaps so eager to ignore

the truth staring us in the face

all I know is there's certain

plants that will grow where I live

that weren't able to

when I first started gardening

those twenty some years ago

regardless of media battles

of who reports which story

to support whichever agenda

I know that winters have warmed

overlooking those with interests

to back the use of certain industries

and their use of alternative facts

I know that rainfall has changed

its paths and frequencies and forms

we've always lived on a ticking bomb

this world spinning out of control

and life has always been a risk

existence a gamble with each and

every choice we choose

but choices are running out

as the ticking hits the accelerator

and hopefully we can find peace

with what we've done and

what we continue to do

Brain chains

alas, listing in lost lust

the sink is shipping

the wane is braining

the drain is bathing

into nothingness and

altogether lucid confusion

what is manifested

from too little vigor

over too many days

is a meager vittle

for a ravenous life

and knowing of

not being able to

recall this past week

are the chains

the brain drags

well into the grave

Night sirens

nights of screaming owls

and toads

across the pasture

pitted with rodent homes

I pass with lantern

carefully avoiding the

large yawning mouths of earth

the night still burns with day

and the wind has nothing to say

and dry grassy arms

brush my ankles to pin

their seed to my socks

I walk to leave the range

of the yard light

into the shadows

of the arid night

I inhale the spicy infusion

draped in the air

expelled from the sagebrush leaves

their sighing relief in the dark

the screams pull me further

away from my life

these sirens of the night

Incant

past the empty bookshelf

lays a chamber of reflection

with a single chair

in the middle of deception

the shadows always stir

upon entering the stage

and eternity opens

when the seat is engaged

there are no depths

to any of the directions

tis only endlessness

in viewing the reflections

in patience will be found

the reward of the room

one must always wait

for the moment after soon

a traveler will be welcomed

a traveler will become

no longer will the room

revolve around the sun

the keeper of the time

will conquer what will test

and disappear through walls

no longer needing rest

the keeper's key is green

and floats in the moon

the lock is the mind

the prison is the room

WAWS

waxen lips

an empty kiss

with hollow words

soon to follow

stranger lips

yet once were known

now full of lies

hard to swallow

cracking lips

on tipsy feet

kiss a stranger

in the window

waning lips

become listless

seeing the self

a mere shadow

In the dark

I linger still with

what scared me in the dark

in night I ventured out

following what bellowed

within my bowels

the flutter inside dragging

me out among

the standing ancient woods

I couldn't bear to take

any more steps as each noise

was a paralyzing voice

yet nothing stopped

what yearned from deep within

further my feet followed

until the sounds surrendered

to the remaining intense quiet

the air stagnant and standing

still within the elder timbers

that moment held eternity

as I savored the fear in my heart

what had brought me there

I knew stood behind me

its presence cold and near

my neck exposed to its breath

the drumming pounded

from my chest resounding

through the silent air

in a swift moment more

I was taken into the colds' embrace

and falling faint

dared to peer upon its face

when the night is darkest

and all sounds seem to pause

I am found lingering

with what scared me in the dark

Woodlawn

shadows looming over the land

from a towering arborous hand

this, the dark

darting in and out

of the light

beckons beyond

the iron gate

and paths call out

flowing over

the curves of the plots

as if the souls

lay not in earthen grave

but in some very patient

or very obstinate

watery wave

and the monuments

to life continuum

are not the rooted

solid posterity

but simple stones

death has thrown

to skip through

the cemetery

Brick words

toss them without a care

careless one would need

to be to throw them

through the air

perhaps a random target

or focused on the aim

but the hurl and fall

are all the same

their weighty dispositions
hold emotions of their source

and carry it along

with their lethal force

they crash through windows

they smash in flesh and bone

they're needless, hopeless

yet always being flown

and fly in flock abundance 

this storm of ravenous birds

when all one can speak

and only toss out brick words

Sigh

after being

hung out

to dry,

to bleed out

and leave a

weathered

leather remnant

behind,

a revelry

boredom must

have in a sigh,

its scythe

of choice

to sever

interest in

whatever

may be passing

before

some one's

very eyes

and join

in mundane

monotonous

mud