Driftwood Amongst an Open Field

Ardor or Orphic
What wheat has become
A blanket for a beating heart?
Not rushed but suddenly
Sewn in this

Sweet cacophony of impertinent rhythm

What roses, mad and pure,
In mid-efflorescence hide playfully
Amongst flax-strung tongue figurines such as these?
Effort wrought brought stars to skin
A celestial proposition in Morse Code
Blinking with summer’s language
Batting eyelashes light up saccharine
Skies of humid veneration

And the gardens before us,
In all their fervor
Cast heat deep into Evening’s cerulean ocean
And the gardens before us,
In all their fervor
Cast heat deep into Evening’s cerulean ocean,

And our bodies reflexive
Rippled and dissipated in a breeze
Of delicate liqueur almost as if
We were nothing at all all along

Everything, Generally, Erodes

A yell visceral and ground wrenching
Shaking ever so viciously

My legs learned quickly to be rubber
To bend when the wooden shingles shook,
When concrete rippled-
Like waves of a great gray ocean-
To its foundation,

And I would stand as witness
To two fault lines giving way

And I was powerless
To violent assaults of furniture
Ambushing defenseless dandelion fortifications,
To crystal shards of windows and sentimental porcelain
Shattering
Upon kissing floor,

This is the only affection I saw

When I was young my feet were magnets for glass

Cleaning up debris like a vacuum
Lubricating tile and linoleum
With blood restore a shine long lost bond-
How easily can earth be brought
To a standstill when bearing witness to the destruction of innocence

When I was young my feet were magnets for glass
And my house like my legs were impervious to complete collapse,

Drifting apart like Pangaea
A sea of alcohol slowly splitting land masses in two,
Mother an island of rebirth
Father a faltered landmass of pollution

Now an adult
Now the quakes come no more
But now an adult
I still remain a vacuum,
The exception being
Now, I pull glass from my wrists and thighs
And no longer
Are my feet magnets

Only As Much

An accumulation of truth hell
Bent on seeing end result, a tree fell
Silent somewhere, maybe north
Where I first learned to fish or to
The east seen signaled as
Embers of a family
Photo being burned beneath cedar blossoms
And cut-off jeans, processed to paper printed
A love note in legal text, an obligation
To let you down, do it now
To save a scene,

What do I have to know
An insistent intervention
An addiction to a drug that runs
Through my veins, I am half my mother
Half my father, half ex-husband
Half failed marriage half-proof alcohol,
One-hundred percent a portrait of love’s incompetence

What do I need to know

Sundry summer day, bees kissing
Blackberry florets, sitting expected but
Unaware on picnic table watching
Jack russell bathe in black dirt-Friday
Contemplating coming sunset,
Walked out tapped flannel crossed
Shoulder, handed document
Recited rehearsed structure,
Coming out in murmur spilling
Over labor and birthdays
Anniversaries and being buried without
The matriarch holding your heart
In requited ardor, a rush
Of words thin as blood weakened
Pulling distance from existence,
Signed your stone separated and alone,
I’ll lay next to you

An Epilogue of You and I

Settling for
Sand falling in precipital pattern,
A cloud cupped in your hands
Formed an hourglass spoke nothing of
Coincidence rather, we watched
Intently the flipped motion picture
Of a mountain evanesce into transparent mist

Potentially blunt ignorance
Or just enjoying a sentient moment
Of naivety, loosely strung
Cotton clothing embraced the moisture
As gift from Lake Michigan,
Shaving warmth from skin
To accept this weight felt closer in sharing
something other than a kiss,
It seemed limitless
The possibility of being able
To walk anywhere

Barren feet beget tandem path
Turned twisted pulling memories from momentum
And the smallest actions go unnoticed
Distance in inconspicuous space
Hinting at inevitable outcome,

Breathing-a mercurial montage
Fizzling forth collective images
Immortalized in wet cement
Chalk drawings of cigarettes
Lighting up caves of empty
Fields between hair and glistening cheekbones,

And the last grain of sand stumbles
Triumphantly to earth
And we felt such relief

Restitution

On the hem of a river
Behind the glowing lights
Of a ‘54 Bel Air dashboard
The constellations glisten
With barn owls and reclaimed wood,
Rusted to earth
The ferns have replaced frantic minors
Staring faceless into their hands
Drinking the stagnant sips
Of watered down whiskey
Hiding beneath the backseat,
Silhouettes project
Themselves over skin
Almost a match,
A body between
Memory and transitioning
A feather falling
Believing itself to be a leaf,
The car doesn’t move
Yet we are stricken motion sickness

Happy-Birthday

Wrote to you casually we haven’t
Talked in a few years but you still
Read my poetry and it’s sad but
You get it more
Than ever now

A faulty connection
Static radiating from radio signals
Held and let go of in water droplets
Falls from the sky born in pewter clouds
Ink swells spilling from vials
Passionately onto paper
Cascades from cheek bones-
Bottles of vodka these days-soaks into the new
Carpet bought before spontaneously collects and
Flows as if gaining sentience a great
Lake with strong currents, life
Riddled with electricity and interruptions
“Never enough time to devote to breathing
Constantly swimming to catch a clear path
Always and only being a fatalistic rendering
At what point is this classified as drowning?”
Wondering if not the affair could it have been
The ability to never complete a sentence
That caused the divorce

So I read your reply and it
Rained in the middle of January

Fragment Palette

Wore brass pins to silver
Showing smooth and reflecting,
Picked loosely together
Attaching fabric to skin
In awe of,
Ingenuity has spoken
Under awnings cover furrows laden,
Frozen seems illuminated
Raining parallel gradients-
Envelop birthday candles,
Shout to enter,
With  reliance on one another
Yet a disturbing ethereal feeling
Of being never together,
Through brief space left in place
Through bed fevers pajamas on
Slipping wood floors skating
Through kitchen half empty
Checkerboard decorated
Playing pawn to move forward at first
Then diagonal when overtaken,
Slipper littered leading outside
A path towards redemption
Or a moment to collect
What’s left of it,
Glass empty under porch light
Designating failure points
Allowing fluorescence to beg for permission,
Allowed in drawbridge movements of flesh unfolding
Holding as one from afar
Seen close
One heart beats broken to the rhythm of many more