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?

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

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