Northern Exposure

You talked about bones
and I chewed a hole in my cheek,
bit my tongue in the process.
Yet I'm left to be
the one doing all the talking.
I won't lie to the kids.

The Weight

Yesterday's poems
and static.
Each word trapped the dark
in this empty cup
and you won't wait
for the sun.
Keep picturing it.
I want you to lose your nerve.

The Future (II)

Eventually:
concepts beyond our current reach.
We write letters never to be sent
and even reread, intrusive.
And we fail.
What little we have;
little we learn.
There isn't supposed to be an ending.
Even so, you did it wrong.


I failed.


The stars are quiet tonight.
You are the ringing in my ears.

The Future (I)

Right now


I have this
ache
between
my eyes


and


I think
(soon)
it will
be


empty.

Crookers

The pinkish hippos spouted on about
the elephants they used to be, back when
occupying barren corners held all the Appeal.
And the Fear of acquiring my own superfluities
nodded my head and made damnsure
my back was against every vacant crook.

Incognito

Lacking my better half, navigation has begun.
Admittedly, I take aim at any peril given
the circumstances I’ve conjured, however this
dragging tempo, half speed deemed as sufficient.
Temporarily faulty metro-tones hit
the back of my neck in time, snake tongue teases.
Even when alone there are Marlons, so I presupposed
interim exceptions and began hissing too.
Time played out as though canvas and every
story was told through an eye or two,
some more blurry than others.
Who’d have thought elevens would serve
as the dearest of friends tonight?

Kids

Manual labor;
planting dreams in barren fields.
Moving mouths to say what
you’re thinking, and realizing you
don’t like speaking your mind.
Here’s where you pick the dirt
from beneath your fingernails
and deny any semblance of effort.

No Shit, Sherlock

I’m not doing this right.

Autobot

Parched (read: starved for attention)
voice box fractures.
Prodding lights reveal early introversion,
eyes pick up the slack.

Puff Piece (II)

Don’t hold your breath for me.
I can see we both have our hands full and
yeah, we could wait and see.
If memory serves we’ll scour anyway.
Highs lows, around/between/under pinky toes.
My posture is more of a slump,
declarations like pauses
but yeah you should wait and see.
I already said it.
Maybe I’m just amazed-mazed.
I kind of want to wait and see.

S/T/E/R/E/O

Static.
Frequencies staring into my demi-soul. And then
that song came on.
Cued reality with bum/bum/be/dum.
I couldn’t tell you a single word, but
they had to have heard the news.
Shamelessly rooting for you.
Like I was taking what I wanted…

Loq

I spy the Lights Out queen.
She sits like a lady/
so I just assumed the rest.
Eyes like cage dances/
sing flames far as/
pheromones cease decree.
I can tell you right now/
she should have given up/
on vocal chords hours ago.

Dinner Date

Wiped, pristine plate smiles
not letting them stack up,
always willing to polish.
Things like that extra mile.
I opt to cut clean cloth ties and
see only my missed opportunities
for conversational niceties.
Resting on shoulders, our meal has chilled.
Checks brought, promptly
tossed over the right with
less polite salt companions.
Eyes bigger than the general pensive
and my stomach tells me
I’m going to need a while to let this settle.

Puff Piece (I)

What insanity.
Guilt dries my gums until only the obvious remains.
We truss tepid treaties and know full well
what we’ll never revisit. Too tight and this
pen always betrays paper-deep, all I’m left with
is another tally-tied lie in full black and white.
All too readily I tendered any semblance of colour.
Left alone, my bare bones prepare for salvage.
Optimism at arm’s length and still nowhere in sight.
What insanity.