A portrait

walls red
warm
and rich 

a home packed
into
10 X 10

the half naked man
sits 
on the bed.

checkered
plaid
quilt in a pile

he sleeps this way
tousled
between sheets

and has just awoken
from
the fear of being

without. 
the
weightiness

beginning 
to 
crack the floor

sure to drop him
down
down down

Catchup

If there was a document

 labeling me as default,

  I would have sweated

   this absence,

    and found myself

     evicted.

      Instead there

       is freedom enough

        to know that no paper

         truly binds us.

          Only the

           expectations

            for heroics 

             which we stuck our 

              own hands in to,

               cuffed them shut,

                and swallowed the key

For when I’ve nothing to say

Some nights

I just don’t feel 

like words 

can come

and solve

a thing.

Like when I’m

down to

utterance

of sound

without 

much a

direction.

These are

the nights

I love you

like a bell

loves those

who listen

to its toll,

but wishes it 

could do

more than

repeat 

itself.

Wishes it

could find

a way

to make

the nights

more lively.

Even as

the ones

it loves

follow their

schedules,

listening.

 

 

And then the plan became a journey

A tire dislodged 

terribly uneven

what is centered?

      flapflapflapflapthunkthunkthunkthunk

when the key was turned

expectation said

there is rubber to meet road

       flapthunkflapthunkscreeeeeeeeeech

it was there,

it was sure

and then it wasn’t

       grrrrrrindthunkthunkthunksparkssssss

road’s shoulder greets 

cold hands on iron

and 

       …

a new silence

 

 

9th

You were not privileged enough to hear it

while we sit in awe.

This is what is meant

to give your whole

to such freude