Modern Romance

Among the morning city
strings the interconnect
of thought and physical brain
bright blues of skipping
light silvering over those
tired bodies in for the night
a boy who rides his bike
looks up into an unfamiliar
sky wonders not
what or how
or why but
just smiles
and smiles
and smiles
hands out
letting
carefree wind
lost principals
funnel life
by and by and by

It's not you it's me

Green is the snow beneath
our wintered soles that shuffle
back and forth looking for static
spark to light the wood
we’ve been gathering

wood would melt
our cold weather words

Oh but we do consent the clouds to gather so heavy as spouts that poor our heads full of pounding, leave us rising amnesiacs.

Slow heads
overflowed
of rain
-water
our feet again

to wonder
collecting dew
stains and baking

over the ice of summer

In periphery sky
In melancholy joy
wait down poor
clouds for semaphore:

“sink us ships
in cathartic bliss and cold,
cold forgetfulness”

Tin and Tinder

Rain always seems to precede
our constructed misunderstandings

we stand together underneath
tin roofs place hunger and lungs
before hearts and as hearts
we pace for one another
hang our skins to blend
into cream colored siding
as a sign that you can know
what thoughts are ticking by
if you only look

but our ears shield our eyes
as they forget to listen
to the truths tinning off
as rain coming hard from
gathered clouds

our honesties forgotten soldiers
victims of the fragile circumstance
we’ve built up around us
if we could only walk from under
this false tinder we would
wash away the tender lies
that keep us standing
and lay together—a puddle
of honest bone and honest
blood