Superior’s Frisco

Hogsback Mountain- a love story:

Staircases of roots tangled together
Crawling deeper into earth
And down into my heart,

Nests perched above
Gold glows abundant with eagle eggs
With wings and raptor beaks
These children are my own,

Barefoot it’s been awhile,
Hasn’t it? A cologne of spring-
Fed trickling streams tickle my senses,
Flames flick up towards stained glass windows,
Birch pine cedar
Depicting scenes of solemn reverie,
Eager to portray our history,
Present these quiet kisses of ours
In vague images to the world are you
Bragging? Almost,

Made it to peak shirtless
Saw again the naked prosperity of our relationship,
Distance can’t impede what is meant to be-

The consummation of one’s soul
Through great granite skyscrapers
Soft water city nestled in-between fractures interlocking,
To grow is to erode
Break down skin to dirt
Sprout ferns and somehow,

I’ve never felt more human

Do you remember two summers ago-
The first time we met?
I ran straight to summit
Smoking Nightcap in a Prebem Holm freehand,
Not once letting ember rest
I read Kerouac to you
Aloud so all surrounding above and below
Could hear,

Oh,
How far we have come,
How far we have come

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

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?

A Brief Visitation

Under an eave between house and wood shed
It rains seas of gray and weariness and I
Alone captivated in a field of tobacco smoke,
Watch the wet persistent birds
With their damp persistent wings
Fly back and forth,
From canopy to feeder
Gorging themselves on sunflower seeds,

Fruit fumed slowly with hickory permeates
Bringing back summers now spent,
Past purchases where the sun
Was nothing but an ambient metronome
Ticking in rhythm to the beats of adolescent fervency,
Oh, sear seen afternoons where rivers clung optimistically
To bedrock and the birds serenely dry sung
Illimitable hymnals and the young sang along
Knowing exactly the melody

There is a flash of lightning
An expansion of air,
Feathers flutter instantly
An unnoticed second heaven makes an appearance
Only to vanish with company
But persistent as always
Wings of sangria and pecan shortly after
Return and gorge
Stuck maybe in a world far from my own

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

Seeking Physical Presence In A Stock Photo

Teenage intuition seeks alternatives to baring witness
Conversations  delayed till no longer relevant

Legs run
Tracing root systems to river’s edge
Flames whisper from peripheral’s blur
Time capsule’s accordance
Flesh is buried
Trinkets sewn of heart string
Reunite with hand prints on hinges
Pulling heavy breath through narrow openings
Stumbling still abled
Safety in knowing but not showing face,
Translated shoe laces missing
Tied a knot somewhere
Stopped the bleeding for a little while longer
Scrapbook sheets left behind
Licked a stamp as last chance exit
To be returned anywhere
Except every moment not shared

A picture framed
Gravel roads kaleidoscope stained
Porch light projecting a phosphorescent montage of letters kept
Context shown as postscript flashbacks
Narrated by voices in tones of bodies present,
Pressed together pen under skin
Wrote in cursive slender yet elegant,
A signature and hyphen followed by
A smile with some numbers added
Replaced the thought of never seeing you

Apparently

For Friday and possibly for always

Pose a question
Mark bent into exclamation
Rushed from asunder stumbled to gather

A glass of lemonade
With dashes of lavender
Would be refreshing
Sipped through an initial burst of feeling piqued
Something once experienced
Rusted over
An accident aged and placed on the shelf
Of an antique shop

Unrecognizable
as water reflects the presence of health
In the absence of body,

Mackinac waited for us,
Waved as the car drove over Michigan
Spoke softly to Huron
An understanding
Listen clearly
Possibly always

The tongue protects memory
Wrapping each with degradation
Of reality and actuality
Placing a fire where
There was none before
Ward off sharpened teeth
Smoke drenched
The bugs won’t bother,

Habitual garments worn for assurance
If visible it won’t be noticed,
Clothes kept close
Weighted with a slate scraped clean
Set the table and laugh
Everything said
Is all in my head
And so are so many
Other things