Monday, 21 August 2017

The Queen of Nothing



I slipped inside of the
oily puddle today.
Even though I knew it
was there.

The twig you threw was good
enough to save
itself, barely.
Still, it was the strangest thing.
While I was waiting,
suddenly I had this tree.
Not much moves me,
but I had to move for the roots.
They were so big.

It burned inside, I know it.
The petrol had to burn the
branches inside,
had to leave scars that
never turn white.

The explosion would have
horrified you,
had you waited to see.
Oil does that—
it explodes.
And then there is nothing left.

Not even a twig.

Sunday, 20 August 2017

Breathe the Free Air



I want to wake up
I want to wake up
I want to wake up

The little dog has fleas

I feel nothing
I will cut it out
this thing in my chest
All of the empty hallways
mile after mile 
antiseptic  
he doesn’t care if 
I know
he doesn’t care if 
anyone knows  

Saturday, 19 August 2017

And the Rain Came Down, Redux




Whisper it to me while no one is listening
tell me I am a fool
tell me I am not
tell me something that makes sense
and then prove it

Friday, 18 August 2017

Lost



All of those letters
tortured into thousands and
thousands of
words 
each one leading into the 
same grey room
the towering slag heap
only the slightest quiver
down comes the river
nothing to hold onto
it will kill us all

Thursday, 17 August 2017

The Deepest Cut



I saw you then the knife
always you first
it kills in two hits
I would never know
back and forth
back and forth
even once to be close enough
how hard I wished it away
but the lie was everything
to you

Wednesday, 16 August 2017

Knowledge of the Other




Here we are again, I say to the dragon.

Yes, he answers.  Here we are again.

I am tired.
I keep trying
I wait for the snowdrops each year
and they come
and I admire them
but something has happened
the wonder is gone
this was why I never meant
to know.

The riddle.  When?

There is no riddle.
Just words to the saddest song in
the world
whispers that eat away at denial
not the rotten bitter kind
but the type that keeps the
hopeless alive.

You are still afraid.
You are ruled by fear.

So easy to say when you can burn
what torments you
I do not have that luxury
I must stand on my toes to look over it
as I try to admire the
snowdrops in the
garden
I must make peace with
dwindling denial
how sweet it was
that blue sky I saw it
I believed
now I am resigned
tell me
is this victory?

There is no winning,
the dragon tells me.
There is only acceptance.
Remember the riddle.
It is your only choice.

Tuesday, 15 August 2017

Lost in the Ether




There is a devil in my closet
I am not afraid not afraid
Do you want to go on a picnic?
No.  No.
We should take the roof way
I am a thousand dreams of
yesterday burnt through
We will float in the stars 
like a dying planet in search 
of black holes.
We have no choice
the sky never forgives.