for each city, there are divisions
there are districts, split into neighborhoods
split into blocks, split into houses
split into smaller cities that exist on microscopic
and intangible scales
the scales are the lives and the threads connecting
for each city, there are divisions
the divisions are each thought and word said in passing
there are districts, split into neighborhoods
the neighborhoods are each sentence and song resting on an outstretched tongue
while large roads adorned with shops break apart the lives and threads
split into blocks, split into houses
the cities that live on backs and grey matter
split into smaller cities that exist on microscopic
and the fleeting connection of passers-by in the street
and intangible scales
the scales protect the soft, protean core
slowly but eventually, as you see now, spaces empty
the sounds of cities, of bodies, two pages being turned in unison, the subconscious [mumbling] in one's sleep
all drifts into the ether
and what is left is the deafening silence
as the clock ticks "endless" into the dead of night"
you lie awake staring at the ceiling
you sit, fighting the subtle creep of sleep
and stare at the empty chair across from you
let the sounds in
to fill your rooms again
breathe air from the window
hear cars come to a stop in your living room
children laughing
birds sit by your nightstand
pages turn as you fill your mind with stories
and the sounds of life stop the clocks.
you can stand at that elevator
and press the button over and over
but it won't come when it's in maintenance
you can stand in the door
wave your hand in the air and press all the buttons
but you can't run from who you think is chasing you
do you ever feel the walls closing in?
how much time do you think you have?
how many more ups and downs are you willing to go through
before you're returning to that elevator again
while you grow older
make sure you never forget
the visits to your grandparents
lying awake at night behind drawn shutters
how quiet and how simple the world outside seemed
how the room would fill briefly with red and white lights and sounds from cars
that would sweep through once as it searched for something
then vanish down the road, passengers never returning in that state or that place for ever again
how the phone would go off in the morning and you would pretend to sleep
until you got up at 7 and would watch TV with your grandma and she made you fresh fruit and yoghurt
the significance of these experiences you took for granted
though they blanket your life like a translucent duvet cover
down main, past 10th, 11th, 12th
turning the corner and the slew tails
down past the stadium, onto fourth, past the school and the slew thins
snaking between molded cracks
and rocks carved in the shape of homes
lights down and low but one bumper still stares back in the mirror
u-turn, closing gaps, the focus closes in
back on 4th, down creek
onto the interstate, focused still
clearly followed, onto the left lane and full speed
down for hours past cities, plants, plants to forests but it never leaves
nowhere left to go but straight
praying, praying
that the road won't end
approaching weather fronts
unstable, I'm lying in the grass
in the stillness resting at the boundary
cutting my ankles through the spilling
superfluous words of dry grass tilling
the surface of itself
breath feels dense and palpable,
with the air warmly rushing in to fill each crack of my limp body
like warm butter, running and dripping off the boundary
as I'm brought to notice fleeting light
sweep the kitchen table where the glass stands
the glass you left
I crawl to the edge and peer
down to see the drops approach the floor
are birds and from the grass my eyes track the thickening silence
to manage terror one might say:
"their"
hand reaches for a lemon
as the thickness becomes syrupy, then liquid
I taste the grass as my face sinks into the ground,
I taste, the birds, the wind rising, the boundary blurs
squeeze
trying and trying to manage terror
it drives through me like a shock
and nestles itself, circling in-between my bones
every time I see you
falling apart, trickling like cracks
through the gaps between my fingers
I'm fearful, sad
I should be glad that I don't see
what goes on behind those blue eyes
when the sun goes down and I watch
you drift off into the space that sits in your ceiling corners
will you reach the centerpoint?
will I?
sun-spotted, browned, air-brined applies lie on the ground in your garden
soft; slice, slice, you hand them out over your lap
with juice dripping down your hand
though I know I can never feel the pain, the ecstasy, the peaks and troughs you have and will
here and now, I feel close to you
can you sense my presence
tell me, do you know that I'm here
even when I'm not here when the sun is down
soon, it will become real again
I hope to see you again soon
cutting around the core with the stem and seeds
whatever way the branches bend
bringing the halved apple from one palm to another;
gathering my things to go
close to you;
this feels like joy right now
our small part in a long story
and how everything begins to crumble
how a system is built in seconds
and in seconds returned to dust
how we occupy spaces, gaps between the walls
in desperation to muffle our breath
like when you leapt from your balcony to mine one night
after the silence became unbearable
that gap could only be bridged briefly
neatly folding my clothes to move out
and leave another space behind me to rot and pile up
I had such a clear image in my mind
until it fell from my grasp and I clawed, pulled at the threads
holding together the covers we lay under
I wanted to stay and die under that canopy
to never leave that space I felt infinite
with light double strained by the blinds
on your dusty carpet
deep down, I know
I was so afraid
and as we hurtle faster and closer, pulling each other in orbit
we lose
full cream white page
my book is a circle, each poem its center
first stains blot and smudge
how do you promise,
to let it all go
when you're too weak to convince even yourself
when you have so little left in your grasp
to begin - or end - with
you take out a page
grasp it in your hand
and make a promise
pull through and park
my knees weak, knees uneasy
when I have to do anything but you
for for the candle in the window
I'll wick away the water pooling at it's base
I'm corroded, a full throw it feels
away
it's only been hours today
if I have to do anything too much for you
so sorry
so scared
sounds of string, slipping through skin
with the ritual ended, we now can begin
dance home four score grass ball
watched light fleeting left ions candle
wicking away wicker creak sand atom
lose losing loose energy dry carve crack
car door slam in ends under watch
valley lost for them isn't that enough
our band don't it fun level lost
it didn't re-combine drop break away
fray distant please perfect paint a
wall oh so leave now before the
door wouldn't it be the first that
breaks the one losing time and again
again again stop.
sun hiding somewhere
surrounded by white, domed walls
unstable rainfall
clean white tote bag
phone on 50
keys for two reasons
wallet drained of cash
this book and its words
one pack of plastic, broken in thirds
the dull knife you'll use to carve out your name
as you call me "██████" and my hands dig in your back
searching for what not even I know
a sound, a feeling, or something that's missing
check the time
lock the door
hit the road
walk the line
checking the time
again so you'll know
that "I really want this" I say
as your hands begin to search
familiar patterns and forms, only bent and stretched
by bodies, again by time
you find it, raise it to the sky, to your lips, a chalice
like love, like silence broken
drink.
███ ████ of the north
you stood ███████ in the entry hall of the station
a monument, an embellishment
over the playing hands in architecture
on its surface faded graffiti looks state imposed
gray wood beams draped with drying flowers
we're living somewhere, now
but it doesn't feel quite as real
as ███ ████ of the north
standing ███████ in the entry hall
we push the old craft up the hill
wheels track through the wet grass
its wings flap gently over the currents and gusts
lusts for air
the body fills with water, flowing into apathy
parallel flags lead the way into open channels between the homes
the tail scrapes and the nose lifts
skyward as the air filling with sugar, burning on re-entry
a wake flying back off the wings
into open air, becoming open sea
drenched and soaked
falling through blankets and pillows
unto blue skies
words unheard outside these four ears
and mine burn, ache
hazed eyelids stained blue and pigment
you. blue skies
take me out and paint a picture
terrible lies lie in these sheets
this is the first
and the second
from where I'll draw my last pigment
brush tap, dust fall
I'm never who I want to be
so leave me be
if you could see me without eyes
how would you read me?
if you could hear me without ears
would you listen?
if I bathe in the water of one body
would I stay afloat?
if I switch to another
and press my face in the sand
could I lay down in the warm sun
or would clouds come to rain?
for I feel part of two sides
and two bodies flow into one
they are free
she expresses himself through one body
they are mighty
they are me