Sunday, July 31, 2011

all the blowings and bangings and noises
like the roof is about to fly off
or the garage topple over

apparently it's just the borrowed lamp
knocking against the wall again
the rusted thing hanging on the back porch

an old tree's fruit rolling down the alley
a building through the branches I cannot see
and the world goes on fine without me

what we did today is gone
only the things we gave away
are going to come back


2011

Started around Four Thirty

I feel like a beat up old crone
in a bodybag

in a town where you're egged for
having purple trim

for wearing new sport boots and
a pink scarf

gimp-armed goblin tombstone robbers
wandering about

there's a cyclone in Burma, cats
in the dragon pot

this kind of weather makes me
feel alive


2011

Sustainable Enthusiasm

look if you don't like it
you don't like it

I'm not going to hold you accountable
for not understanding

hell I don't have patience for some of the
stupid things I have on me to say either

sure back when my nutsy rages were unmanageable
I'd rant and capture every hurtful word

double spaced on pink and blue ruled paper
just like I was schooled to do

but now the person up there is paddling a boat
and here I am floating in the ocean

I said that person is paddling around in a boat
and I'm floating out here in the whole ocean


2011

A Ticket to a Ride

pajama pants and army shirt
on the second cigarette
haphazard shorthand

a breadcrumb trail for when
I need to retrace
my steps

what we chose against
in favor of what
we then did

so that it does not slide into a blur
those branches of this thread
alternate realities


2011

You Can't Scratch It

in this myth I am over
eight feet tall, light
and free, life is well

her laugh, your mouth
you tell me you love me
just like she did

I prayed for peaceful days
again with laying of hands
now look how the moon glows


2011

This Is the Year

back again, and just in time
everyone turns to take a look
there's nothing you can do

a mob coming in from the kitchen
all howevermany candles shining
the whole family from hiding

his best girl and all the guys
the chef's hat and waitstaff
singing happy birthday badly

he blows the candles on the face
of a cake painted much like him
a sloppy portrait, deformed

the wisecrackers are coming
up with their best wise cracks
haranguers with their harangues

like having just wet his pants
in front of a grade nine class
when the headmaster takes a stab

so he grabs the serving knife
and lifts it high into the air
comes down hard on the cake

drags his fist back and forth
with the point of the wedge
across the layers, jagged

"whoever tries first is going
to get it," he calls at them
as the frosting goes flying

he swallows hard, hands now
empty but sweating, there's
no way out of it this time


2011

Little Hatchets

raccoons eat birdseed true
and glow flourescent orange

some nights skulls in the ceiling
or dry bones in the plasterboards

I come across as lecturing sometimes
walking around on birdcage hooves

a hardworker and caretaker would just
take care of the rattling door

but all that means is I get to
find it on my own and stay open

hold on to it alone so I can
feel it when I'm home


2011