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splash

splash

When the salad arrived
I poured disappointment over the table
Drowned the burrata
Drenched the haricots verts
The lettuces frowned back from a sinkhole
Quite a submerging scene

The frenzy was silent
But the overflow soaked the silverware
It flooded the restaurant

I promise
That bottle got knocked over by accident

Carlene

Carlene

When you speak, Carlene,
it sounds like you’re electrocuting time

In the car, your talking turns thick,
like you’ve smeared it all over the tires
made your voice gargantuan

Carlene,
you rival nature in self-contained story
with a sound of cawing birds or buzzing flies
now glued here forever
to silently gnaw at my memory

Mercy…

Mercy…

Mercy…
The golden days have gone dark
Stuffed into the past
Two years of glory gone
An era extinguished

It was an era of unity, when time transformed
When standard public practice paused
and societal expectations evaporated
Rules crumbled
Collaboration constructed a new reality
The world was brand new
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roachlike

roachlike

as nature’s crowbar cracks the morning open,
do I crowd midnight’s remnant corners?

am I to be found fawning at the back of barren cupboards,
daring time for one more unseen hour?

is the hollow where I burrow destined to be uncovered
at the next gash in the moon?

as the universe is clobbered into halves,
am I as well?

or perhaps I flutter simply, darkness harnessed, contrary to the roach

Far from the Avenue of Bars

Far from the Avenue of Bars

I remember the night I met you
We sat on the porch and smoked cigarettes
I asked you about music
We understood each other right then

Today, thinking of you, I remember that life can be war
Unrelenting
Crueler than humans one by one
It’s an onslaught, unforgiving
You knew despair, you told me
You were a songwriter

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In This Dream

In This Dream

In this dream, we are all together. It’s December and I miss you. I am not going to believe I won’t see you.

Tonight, you’re just outside the front door, I can hear you. You’ve got on that tweed coat, the one that’s almost yellow, with the thin black lines, and you’re smoking. You’re so elegant out there on the porch, talking in between exhaling, waiting for dinner to start. You say something self-deprecating, make that sound like a “tff,” you’ve dismissed something you just said. You laugh while you set down your drink.

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