Migratory Patterns

You do not know, so I suppose
In some aspect every flock of terns that fly
South when my mouth opens to speak
Is a lie;

A murder of crows crowding
Serene ocean skies with cimmerian concrete impressions,
I am buried in what I know

In what you believe to be honesty
Is absolutely otherwise and I am unsure
If an apology is needed or if a confession is necessary
Because you’ve always recognized pink
As being my favorite colour

Receding Coastlines

Fair opportunity presented in such a fashion
Making introduction,
The first word “Hello” impossible to say,
Your interest is in photography,
Mines in fucking up first impressions,
If we’re being honest and it’s not clear by now
Approaching people isn’t my strong suit
And I know of a coastline littered with skeletons in small clothes,
Imprint these visions of bad weather into still frames
In mourning dew drops
Wind gusts,
Breathless repentance
Broke tension with the body of the girl
Who jumped where we were standing,
Took a picture of the lake shore
Riddled with fissures
Bodies for holding
Letters written poorly got caught in the negatives
Revealing a trace of humanity
On an Isle of stone eleven thousand years old,
If you look closely you can see her bones have become small pebbles

Upon Worn Spirits

Sheep’s wool woven crystal grey
Cascading braids of thunder and lightless theatre marquees

I came covered in caramel vapors
Rode around town on a pair of
Restless rubber legs
Started north and ended up
Along homecoming’s lakefront

Sidewalks and wave whispers
Decorated with the fermented remnants of kisses
Meant with good intention, concrete chipped
Intricate designs embossed on finger nails-
What a rainbow,
Colourful contrast created from sleep exhaustion
Hunger pangs staved off with nicotine

I got lost a little bit
Encompassed by the passively pungent smells
Of love’s sweet battlefield, I took my time
Knocked on your door
Opened revealing you standing there,
Entered and we talked as if one
Upon mentioning an interest in stitching
A hat was produced from an inconspicuous kitchen cabinet,
Handed it over graciously-crystal grey threading,
Braids of cascading thunder and lightless theatre marquees

What a beautiful gravestone it would become

Red

There was no where to run so we wept,
As thunder came a freight train
On this crystal clear day we wept
So softly, lightening struck
Water erupted drenched were you,
Drenched was I,
In what colour I have forced
To the back of my mind, I cannot remember
The colour of the water, I have tried so hard to forget

So alone we stood facing one another
A clearing here in this forest of willow
And cedar but mostly in this forest
We were surrounded by the peeling white leather
Of Betula papyrifera,

Our eyes met
Cerulean oceans of German descent,
Black- a beautiful Autumn night of genus Sciurus
And we wept in a mutual moment of understanding,

First silence-a lifetime it felt
As though we had a formed a lasting friendship
Entirely separate from this reality
Then thunder and rain, oh flood waters
I screamed “Where’s Noah’s Arc?” I screamed
But there was no boat
For there was no savior
For I had pulled the trigger
For I can still remember that feeling
As my throat was ripped open and stuffed like a teddy bear

Father smiled,
Yelled “Congratulations!”
As his child drowned
No more than twenty meters away

 

An Uncertainty of Importance

Pine pitch feet dangle

Splash of water proving
Only that this is where I am
That I can distinguish between hot and cold
And this water is black tea
Floral bouquet basking in a setting sun warm

and I smell like shit
Like gay masturbation
Like a nicotine and divorce bonfire

Still surrounding
Amongst familiar paths of a childhood
Long since passed no one speaks

Letting inner sadist run free
I play hooky with mosquitoes and smother
The embers nearly allowing flaxen glitter
To perish before breathing back just enough life,

Another splash
I am here
Feeling only water and diluted rays
Of sunshine stretching sapling liquor thin
Along shallow canyons breaking surface tension
Sink and sink oh liver of mine
One inch at a time,

Translucent wings carry a plump bug away
Leaving an itch and drip of blood-
So this is why the rivers of the Upper Peninsula
All resemble rusty cinnamon- that colour of bad dreams
Lost concentration
Distance a dilemma
Lost in thought
Still getting in places I shouldn’t be
Is it bad timing if I was going to find out regardless?

Kicking a submerged boulder
Tumbling, plummeting
Into turbid tranquility

Could I ever outrun such a burden as this?

To Identify Time of Death

Mostly diluted
Ever so
A tad bit acidic
I was given a chance to feel
Instead I got intoxicated,

Left knowing but distant
Always unable to conceal intention
Drowning in vegetative stories
Remember when?

Loss is a virtue often experienced
Yet so rarely noticed-
Does nature understand
That I feel death as ferns in freezing weather?
As blissful white clouds floating
Such that heaven seems earth-bound?

A shoulder to breathe
Sober up nestle nude against cedar tree trunk
Ever so fleeting
It makes sense doesn’t it?
It is absence that becomes the burden
The memory that provides relief
And this body of mine
Is nothing but never present,
Stuck turning rich nectar
Into watered-down interpretations of flowers
In bloom, delaying impact inevitably
A world concocted with jaded connotations

Life has been made
Continues to exist
Going to cities and learning to keep secrets,
People have spoken to this face of mine
Loves lost and renewed
Though a daydream it seems

Waiting to wake up
Upon the snap of two brittle fingers
Will I remember the past four years?

1,2,3,4

So come with me sunflowers
Masquerade yourselves in cloaks of humid forgetfulness

A hand a petal a liqueur
Sweet and welcoming find what truth hiding
Amongst locations left unknown:
Along shorelines littered
With millions organic mirrors,
Where are we in these grains of sand?
Slowly digging further into out of habit
Maybe out of hope
Are we trying to feel more
Trying to feel all the minute interpretations
Of our own existences at once?

Leaving nothing to chance
Collapse waves beckon wheat forevers
Come with me sunflowers,
We’ll dream restlessly
Waste days away entranced by sleep fever hazes
Wander stubbornly stuck near bloom
Rotating from season to season
Water to wine reason to reason,
What light shines on a single moment-
Dusty windowpanes revealing a rainbow of colour,
What truth is there when a minor shift in perspective
Reveals so much more,
How can we possibly persist in not knowing truly,
What we are?

Sunflowers bright and safe
I’ll admit that this life is lost upon me,
Your company brings comfort
A warm blanket to cover this cowering frame,
Under shade your body an umbrella
Sipping sweet and welcoming,
What truth
What truth
Falling asunder settling to horizon
Sunshine sediment falling,
Falling away
Our shadows merged together,

I felt at peace