Flowers duct taped to an metal pole
Two feet beneath a metal sign
An intersection, interjection only safe
On this side of a painted line
The subtle spray of shattered plastic
Red and orange, the color of fire
Encodes transgressive memory
The tragedy of smoke and tire
Memorials, concentric rings
A moment of confusion past
The violent shards dispersed between
The unkempt concrete walls and grass
They seem so out of place before
The painted fences and the sun
Who smile and hide our common road
Our glimpse inside the dream undone.

The cemetery road isn’t build for efficiency
To chart the minimal path
From location
To destination
It’s a haphazard spaghetti tangle up

 and over the gentle hills
Too narrow for any kind of speed
Not like we want to drive quickly
But the practical fact is
We can’t
Even if we did
I look at the people who work here
And there is something different

 about them
We don’t do this much
So we look to you to tell us
Where to go
And how far
How to be
And for how long
I scan the line sketched and re-sketched
By the tops of the trees
When her voice comes to me
Like the angel: why?
Do you look for the living
Among the dead?
I read that on some South Pacific island
The people made life sized models
Of cargo planes
Out of sticks and palm leaves
And held parades
Long after the war had ended
And the airstrip was abandoned
And the supply flights had stopped
Like a kind of funeral played over and over
Rehearsing the forms
From memory
Maybe so they wouldn’t forget
Why did such grace fall to us?
Literally
From the endless ocean sky?
As God gives
So also he
Takes
We are wound
A long string of cars like hair
Through a lover’s arms and fingers
And we are poured
Out to the larger roads less

 suited for remembrance
Not built for contemplation
As so many tiny rivers
Down into the stretching sand

You’ve always been one of us
So stop acting
Like you’re the one who has

 something to prove
Like I’m the one who needs to hear

 your words
Of awkward admiration
I’ve known it
Not as long as others I’m sure
But at least from the moment your

 shadow intersected my threshold
And your mind
Fierce and furious
Told the tale of its exploits
Almost apologetic
Which is actually comedic
In a moment nearly cathartic
Because I’m just the same you know
The curiosity, the doubt, the fleetness

 of thought and the depth of absorption
In some beautiful and precise endeavor
Complexity not a signpost of fear
Rather a joyous playground
It’s mysteries treasures hid in plain view
So let’s raise our cups as equals
As friends
As instruments unified in

 sympathic resonance
And drink to the dregs
To the reinvention of wheels
To the vast superiority of building
Over buying
To the idea that a piano keyboard is

 more lovely a user interface by far
Than that goddamn claw machine

 at the highway rest stop
Always promising instant gratification
Always letting you down to the tune

 of two quarters and an empty pocket
To Teaching Yourself How to

 Program in Ten Grueling Years
Of error messages that scroll down

 endlessly
When what it meant to say was
You neglected please or thank

 you very much
That is to say
A freaking semicolon
To the glorious rapture of a world

 compiled into a incomprehensible

 trail of digits
Unrolling to affect
The light dancing around us
We are different
You and I
But you are, without a doubt,
One of us.

is that how you used to dance?
two foot tall, yellow rain slicker
dark curls hanging out
internal sound track pumping
a kind of skipping, running slalom
before they noticed you?
before the squelching of that sacred fire
(that you never really lost)
i see it smolder in your eyes sometimes
or bubble over in your laughter
little human, deflecting off the puddles
hips swing, mother and younger sister in tow
leading the way
is that how it felt for you
to be our blessed teacher?

There is a finite force
For every woman and man
When applied, the tapestry
That declares us rips, our avatar
Unformed to ribbons and dust
That settles over weeks and
Months henceforth; even years,
Our tears make us strong if we
Have courage enough to lift
That chalice to our lips,
Acceptance of its taste
For each a secret, untellable
The hero’s labor to receive in love
The broken child who shivers
Beside the bridge reduced to
Beams and shards, to recognize
Her as myself and take him in
My arms, dear one, you shall
Only be greater, more radiant
And strong in your rebirth.

I won’t ask
for you to fill the space in me,
the vacuum that pulls me
to greater passion;
it’s a black hole
so heavy it will crush you
no matter who you are
or what you can give/take.

I’ll hold your hand
and we will feel the force inside us:
an inexplicable mystery
with no resolution;
to trace the reason
is not to know.