Duct taped flowers

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.

Cemetery Road

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?
From the endless ocean sky?
As God gives
So also he
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

One of us

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
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.

how you used to danceĀ 

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.