everyone around you is greiving

Category: 2009: parenthetical poems

there’s not enough time my friend

i’m telling you this because

i’ve seen the pavement

i’ve tasted its richness

i’ve cracked its hidden mystery

i’ve dined on its misanthropic demise

i’ve cured it’s sickness with mine

and i came crawling back


my heart is sand

and death is water

if i get too drunk

please pour salt

on my head


my new curse consists

half part lull – more part soul

a little part of me
wants revenge


on a soap box

just to say so


my wish box lazily drifts your name across

pointer fingers that

draw clouds

the color the sky makes

when you’re gone


paints christmas lights on

glasses that don’t

represent the blue

in the you

you are



i stand still


the leaves
i let leave
bony ribs

like some kind of
unoriginal sin
my throat is as lump
as cats sleep

i crawl to the mirror

my long stares
no new apologies

i am defeatist at best
and she points to where
i’m bleeding

my coat pockets
stain fingers
while i’m
a’ searching for pennies
in dark dark ink

and my ancient
clown mask sweating off

how soup lids
drip steam


i can not stop imagining

pillowed eyelids

retina fluff
your gaze and mine
averting the blinding

what’s hidden in the way
your eyes
match the color

your dress brings the sky
to earth’s eye level



i’m drinking your absence like absinthe

over a bitter’d (and sweet)

photoshop’d memory
of our love

and i’ve stopped everyone on the street
and it’s unanimous
the clouds do look heavy
and pregnant


and i’m trying to reverse the way i painted your eyes
and i’m tossing arrows into black waters
and i’m singing to our love that dark matter
isn’t as dark as we’d imagined it


as if my homeward bound stow-away anthems
could be the tin-pan army
my fingertips
were once famous for

my silent facade
would sings sheets and sheets and sheets and sheets
to the wind


and they’d ask
to please not howl
to please not
read aloud


we’ve anticipated

your every move


i wrote the song

in my daydreams

standing on a balloon

a red balloon

in the theatre

in my seat


i stitched my arms to my sleeve so’s

i could wave my open heart in

mid-air above my hang’d head

i found a map i made from apples

the how-to-manifesto described
a secret box of postcards

i collected enough stardust to
whisper your name

i raced your camouflage melodies skyward

on full moons i’d
gather less magnetism

but i taught daffodils to bloom

and dried leaves in honor

of your passing ghost


the light bulbs they rattle when shaken

and the alarm clock is

a panic’d robot

and the cats are out of food

and the walls are starting  to

wear away where
i’ve been worrying:

blank stares

sun and paper


like iron heels

my horseshoes went untied

i studied like rain

the sadness and the city

galloped me home


than i could run


like rafts that float you to me

and not

the other way around

i will
with might

make an oar

out of the way
we swam


imagine you are not of your dreams

that your dreams imagine you

imagine those dreams see clouds

imagine those clouds have dreams

imagine you are not
a choose-your-own-adventure

only better


distinctions like distractions
only you are at ease

imagine the vibrato of love
like cake how it melts
like the icing on the cake
how it will never melt

how good songs really are
as a’ boiled like a pot can

how hot-water-mist
is but what was intended

how the windows stay clear

how everything
becomes liquid


my breath now in sparkles shows no fade

save me from this cold

lets dissipate

only we’re older than that


i stored my cold war anthems
in cold war journals by the fireside

so’s you couldn’t tell
day from night
light from life

got caught up in the super world frenzy
that becomes the moment that passes

like a balloon
i will wait
like a lover
i will wait longer

my newest heart finds home in changed paintings

i’m caught

somewhere between the heartiest parts of rothko

and not

my ribbon theory these days

sounds like belles and seagulls

it’ll take me dog years

to get
this ringing
out of my ears



surrounded by art kept in well-lit halls

we scripted our nonchalance with axes and wands

like a black swan orchestra
like an ugly duckling seminar
we amplified it

we let the curse become the course

laughed in tandem to scars we used to hide

drew cactus circles around our sunken eyes

we matched our thirst in spades

and we tried on glasses

and we made messes

and we drank blind to scratched records

and in the morning
my friends and i
made the sun sing opposite

only we sang it desperate

and sexy

we penned our harmonies against night’s inferno

we sang oblongs to pastures that need not

for we sang in private

we sang it loud

and in unison

we leaned in

on the walls of the church we were building

and beamed
with cryptic halogen smiles


she has walls built and

laughs their paper-mache nonchalance

like blowing out birthday candles
in my face

she’s documented her
polaroid imagination in
sheets and sheets
upon sheaths of
unmanned notebook paper

like red-brick-silence
like lavender and lemon
her stories become

and her stillness
the way it all
piles and stacks and multiplies in
accidental butterfly movement
is but old lace and cinnamon


like a great wall
teemed with light and air
and as far and as high
as the heart
can suggest

she mirrors my galaxy with hers

and i begin to feel
a hidden science
in the silence
of love