Behold, a Vision of Lovliness

Between two riddles alone, I see a guild of seafaring men

In reflections of Ancient Myth and myrr

Wearing myrtle-twig necklaces

twist’d and slurred,

Whalebone dusted eyelids and wish-crusted pearls

fill them thimbles of kindness strung all over the stern

They speak and exhale a strong pear-colored smoke

(take it away able…i’m stuck)
Which charms past mistakes in the alphabet’s yoke
order. Not a thimble of kindness to assure that this train

will make it home by the passing of the hands.

Ten Dollar Steeple

It’s easier to see the end of the road from the top of the hill. That’s where it was when I first saw the sun set over the palisades. A sleepy pelican dropped a jaw full of warm concrete across a field of 40 foot daisies, and one jackhammer lost its’ life. Perched on leather branches, mimicking the most thirsty of hummingbirds. Parched. In that moment I wished for this polaroid still to be made parchment paper maché and steam, that it would pass eventually. If one could measure sadness, it was saddest.

When the sun was down, we burried the jackhammer and lit the lamps. All heads hung low; all feet wrote paths of yellow ribbon around Sycamore’s. The cellos’ bow wept unknowingly at jars of sea glass, and the pelican dosed off, mocking. Fog hung halo’s on the banister for the morning to come.

One Lesson From the Second Divorce

Boxes wrapped in foil

Creased along the side with the cursive of a long lost language

Read by children alone,

Shimmering

Two cups of coffee for the price of one

Spider plants and the shadows they leave

Soak into the floor like

Sarcasm or smoke or oil

(if… with a union of sunlight, then coral snakes)

Dangling a gentle midnight

Virginius with his hand stretched out and the call for prayer rings through the walls like lunch in a coal mine. Everyday the canary sings, we all wipe our brow, and sweat, and tears, and lightlybreathe deap to make it to the end of the day.