The theft

the lane was lined
with empty houses
draped in time

the night lightly
blanketed the air
as we passed by there

the lane ended at
the ledge of a broken bridge
where I dared to tarry

but you pulled me back
under the shadows
of the towering time-
wrapped homes
lining the lane

your eyes told me
I had nothing to
worry about anymore

your touch asked me
if I wanted to stay
as my bowing head
replied to your chest, "Yes!"

we ended up at some
corner store where you
knew the owner and
told her you would
pay for what I had stolen

your embrace reminded
me I didn't have anything
to worry about this night
as your lips said,
"Besides, stealing isn't nice"

Lastly

and lastly is
the swishing of
the bristles of brooms
of those who clear
the rooms
of all the tears
either fallen
to the floor
or sunken
deep into the
stomach

lastly the hand
drags away
from the shoulder
feet carrying it off
to something and
to somewhere else
while grief lingers
to keep company

lastly the barren
earth bares its soul
to let one escape
for time is just
a mask and its
passing a joke
and grass grows
fast enough for some

Modifly

the streets are her
threads in this

whether they're
smiles lasting
like linen
drugs as synthetic
as polyester
or criminals
as smooth as silk
they are the making
of the masking
while her seed
germinates
while her bud
unfurls its petals
on a cold rainy day
and her tears still
outnumber
the raindrops

it's when he loses
her and she strips
off his clothes
so they both can run
free as themselves

when puddles
in the cracked pavement
shine bright with
the right reflection
after caterpillars
take flight


-for Jamie Lee

Tethered

these remnants
tethered here
tied up in
spaghetti knots
lost in the back
of a closet
or dark corner
of any room
rolled under
the sofa
to collect lint
and dust

you're still
tethered here
not by
the phone
headset you
used at your job
or the MP3
you always
had in your
pants pocket
or the contact
lenses still
floating in
the saline

you're still
tethered here
by the saline
tears shed for
your passing

you're still
tethered here
by the laughter
shared when
reminiscing
about your smile
by the home
you had for
so many in
your enormous
heart

you're still
tethered here
though your
wings have
carried you away

CLOSED

a line jumps
in rhythmic
procession
as the machine
chirps in
the silent room
she lays
on life support
as her children
sit and wait
and watch
Nero play
chess with
Caligula
the beat
keeps beating
under looming
starvation
while the
OPEN sign
remains off

Inheritance

orange plastic cylinder
is fumbled with
by his fingers
her name is printed
on its label
as if it belonged
to her
but she rather
belonged to it
so he thinks
when he whispers
his mother's name
yes she was
generous and
a giving spirit
he mumbles
as the sounds
retreat into his
psyche and
"PSYCHO"
thunders through
his inner corridors
that's my inheritance
he says to himself
she passes away
and passes the baton
of insanity to me
not any other
not sister nor brother
sole heir when
it comes to that
to that end
when all who
are left wished
only to see
those good days
she had
those times when
the sun cracked
open the clouds
and her soul
shone with her smile
he recedes back
into the clouds
as his anger thunders
in the distance
her body is lowered
as tears fall from the sky
yet his cheeks are dry

Moon tears

the widowed moon
revealed herself
through her
melancholic
veil of fog
her frozen
tears floated
in the air
to kiss
the cheeks
of oblivious
passengers
in the night
those kisses
the only
offering of comfort
she could afford
as the world
passed the
threshold of
autumn

Obit

sainthood is
like history
only agreed upon
by liars
love is like
blood
the river that
flows out of the heart
anyone can die
and everyone does
but anyone can
fuck up
so don't act like
everyone doesn't
just because
they die

Requiem

on a throne
of bones
she waits
her beheaded
love leans
in her lap
trickling down
her stone legs
faded petals
of her glory days
the bitter wind
licking her feet
and tossing
those old glories
out into the street
her abandoned
children wander
beyond the
wilderness of words
to be their own
ball and chains
for what all
the blood was shed
can no longer
be said
the words have
been trodden
into the mud
and her tears
tear the skies
from their
somber gray
into darkened night
away from sanity
away from her
heart of liberty
away from
her radiant light