Thursday, January 31, 2008

the moment you said the words
we don’t cry
as though you were still
her eyes, and she were merely
the beats flowing soundly
from your heart, the spell
was lifted, all advancement
of devoted troops
halted, each bygone evening
a loose page, let go
into an asymmetric dawn

Wednesday, January 30, 2008

(for our grandparents)

we are finally at an age
when we will have known intimately
this newest generation to be buried.
during the last set of mass departures,
we tended to be sleeping warmly
in bellies or crying unabashedly in the soft
light of candles and the vastness of echoing
chambers. the greats, as we called them,
were only truly great in someone else’s
memory – we barely got to clasp
onto their warm, leathery hands –
but we have been privy
to their journeys like following a familiar
bell tolling incessantly in the mist.

now this new generation beckons us:
we have drank from their bowls, picked
from their plates, found respite in their
laps and safety within their arms –
at every curve in the road and with
each shifting wall, they have been
a part of our journey.
the day is clear
but their eyes grow misty.
we hold their leathery hands, wondering
when they had the time to turn.
and through all these last moments
our hearts are tolling madly.
the familiarity is yet too close

Tuesday, January 29, 2008

(on the anniversary of the Space Shuttle Challenger disaster)

someone was handing out
Weekly Readers with
the lead story highlighting
those timeless brown curls,
someone was counting down
t minus ten, someone was turning
the t.v. to meet our faces, hearts
lifting off
with the first teacher
to go into space, palms glued
to our desks, caressing her face…

someone was crying
someone turned off the t.v.
someone said, “please
remain in your seats.”
and we all looked down
to meet the same face looking up
from our desks – burned
within 73 seconds into
unguarded eyes – and now
an image always
accompanied by
someone else’s voice-overs

Monday, January 28, 2008

i can tell by the sound of your
i am no longer the knot
at the end of your
and that is a good
thing – not to be the one
hanging onto the only dance
card for miles.
let me at least fold up
these excuses
as you lead the way
there is no
point in wasting
time – the floor is getting
slippery, and there is already
one too many
drinks spilt here

Friday, January 25, 2008

you must have been so happy
to finally
go, your heart swelled
into the technically rare,
if not routinely
proverbial, explosion - a release
of catastrophically
petals, red in its latest

through our newly
microscopic pain, you have
captured us - some
with our tear-linked
stalactite, growing more
fragile in its prolonged
restraint, others
numb in preparation
for tomorrow
and tomorrow

and tomorrow
no longer granting
your eyes
to watch us grow
no longer granting
our tongue
to taste your death
we sleep uneasily tonight
building dripstones
to line our dreams

Thursday, January 24, 2008

when we were young, we paid
the rarest
attention to fallen
band-aids and shifting
memories. we invaded
craftiness and invented fledgling
desires, heaping each and every
experience haphazardly
onto our ancestor’s
rusty scale, juxtaposed
by a blind but deliberate
thumb. we often leaned towards
the sun while propositioning
the moon. and though we have always
been young, back then,
we were preservation young

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

in the space of two days
in the space of two days
or two months, you can encounter
two contrasting species – one
adopted into a mouthful of
silver spoons, the other drowning
in a mouthful of lead – neither of
which have mastered the opposable
thumb, one entirely bedazzled
with links and medals, the
other hypnotizingly entire
with chains and locks, both
hoping to inspire angry
neighbors to knock the
walls down and find you,
peeled layers and sweat,
unclenching from the exhaust

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

it takes more than
one knee –
or getting down
on it, rather
– for you to
put your hands up
in the air, deciding
that it would be more
honest to be two
instead of one.
calculations aside,
we have experimented
with the flight and
in a continuing effort
to sprout
wings, we realized
something impossible
was only something

Friday, January 18, 2008

on the deep
end you can
dive into countless
postures, make
elaborate gestures
that would be
risky or even
on the shallow
end. and so it was
that you
led me to why
my toes have yet
to touch
bottom and my
arms are now set
free, with your glistening
smile the only
banister to reach

Thursday, January 17, 2008

by the end of the night, towards
a whisper, my mouth full
of yes, you still
dreaming in neon, high
voltage – i’ve let
go, and you
haven’t even noticed.
it has become more
than just using
me to advertise your
authority, bending the most
fragile parts to enter
and excite in the burn.
in spite of
the current, i’ll do
every shape, just don’t
expect me to glow
while caving in

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

during the times when
you feel more
pain than i can feel
anything else, i will
remind myself to step
out of bed, put
toothpaste on the
brush, tie both
locks to my
shoelaces after closing
behind the door me…

to step out
and into
the center of your
gravity – a reminder
to unbutton
towards the slip

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

on solid days, i would like to
with cold fingers unravel
the addiction in your
knees, the ticking within
your solitude, the code
to lift those
lips. on liquid days, it takes
only one finger stirring
your solvent dreams
to dissolve my fears

Monday, January 14, 2008

twentytwo nights tinged
with intertwining vibrations -
the radiator's unsteady
hack, your lips pulling
at silent smoke, wind
hugging glass, skin gripping
sweat, staring vacantly
out the windshield,
wiping it down
with only snake puddles
to follow you home

Friday, January 11, 2008

(for j)

the same way you can feel it
in your raw knees
before December's first storm
hits, i cower with my
singing wrists by sunrise, hoping
for a softer landing

the same way i inhale
a breath of solid winter
bound by the toughest pine, you
exhale the longest hint
of Spring, tapping out the unknowable
shapes of my bent heartbeats

Thursday, January 10, 2008

after all these years, there is
still something lost in the way
we approach each other, pulses
unravelling in search of the
stablest equation

Wednesday, January 09, 2008

five times out of six
it only takes
one fanatic
to convince a bushel
of believers
out of their voluminous
beliefs, and that
is the fortunate
of irresponsible
religion these days

Monday, January 07, 2008

(to d)

it is
a silky immersion
to wind around the still
wet edges of your voice, trying
to put a finger
on the Vltava, following
the river through Prague’s
red-roof desires –
as though tracing
a map back
into the forest
could reveal where we first
strung our harps