In the Gazebo
wet rot pooling spread beam mildew sun fibers once cross cut dripping things branches ice melten and weeds grow cylindricyclical night comes onto thunder splatters again the feld spat octogon steeple slides gray but not cold there old burn marks charred gum and waiting on the bench the end of the path your last name cut your hand
Uncertain Compromise
a wash of lye hopeful weeds killbrook rock becoming rock becoming brick, bricks stolen bricks thrown at loud noises damaged cables confusion in soft white midnight prominent swabs enclosure with no exit the light falling on the brick wall undefined rubble unmarked grave I think I should be torn to shreds freight body milk water milkweed uncertain compromise long and careful a wet solid narrow vent strata as hot glass the fading suture unconscious, the water settles night crosses over the naked cascade an old catalogue of kneeling dangling, separated graphite shiver belittlement in wind silo bottled fire tailspin elegance of cold mist
The Kitchen Counter
“i could have sworn this hallway used to be shorter…” crumbs in the carpet hair on your skin. boils bursting light in the attic window, shades drawn, yellow glow gone around the edges. outside looking inside looking / out / in / rewind / unwound wrapping paper taped up corpse in the cellar corpse floating upside down on the evening news. “look at me when i’m talking to you.” yes father no father yes / no mother running fingers over scratch the texture of the wallpaper. taking a bath every night and watching the shape pucker in the steam stealing glances walls wilting / flowers curling in the fireplace / spilling milk cold white ashes over the counter. “shit! i must have zoned out… what was i thinking about…? nevermind, it can’t have been anything important.”