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DepartShe was still young
when she switched lives
with the boy next door
They had grown close enough
to where most sought one for the other
But closeness relies on proximity
and that dooming wall of distance
was more than physical separation
But closeness relies on dependability
and they grew comfortable in their separate states
where the other had grown up
But closeness replies on harmony
and like the plates that shift slowly beneath the earth
they find they are once again strangers
SwingingUnder the motherly gaze of the moon
in an old abandoned children's park,
the man swings. He is young
but not a child, slightly too old
to occupy the playground
but not old enough that
his presence would be a threat
in the daylight.
He swings peacefully,
his toes skimming the ground
to make twin furrows
in the wood chips.
His eyes gaze at the shimmer
of the moon,
head tilted up so its glow
illuminates his face.
This is his escape
from the anger at home
four blocks away,
from the drinking
This is his healing,
where he recaptures the innocence
he lost so soon after birth
and where his mind gives him peace
from his tormentors.
He has always found his answers
in this place,
and it has not failed him this time.
Pushed by the light navy breeze,
he swings from the rope
tied to the monkey bars
and to his still, swollen throat.
This is his escape.
BreakThe Sea shifts with the pull of the tides;
it never breaks,
but from Earth, change takes
and splits into its stubborn sides.
Earth will meet its demise
while Water shifts under bowel quakes.
Broken will lie the stubborn Stone;
the adaptable element takes it by surprise,
rushing to fill its vacant home.
A perfectly respectable time.
Not like 5:17.
No one waits for 5:17.
the time should not exist at all.
even ten-minute increments:
Those are perfectly respectable times
Those times are when the body
attached to mine
when it looks at me on its wrist.
It doesn't have a use for 5:17.
It despises 5:17
because that is when it either
accuses me of moving too fast
or of moving too slow.
I am perfectly dependable
(so long as it remembers to change me
once in autumn
once in spring).
Perhaps I will try, just once:
to switch my time to one more welcomed
when it looks at my face.
It will stop this...
With my obese, old-fashioned cousin
on the opposite wall,
I am worth the effort
of raising its wrist.
Good IntentionsI open your mind, like unrolling a crêpe,
to see if there’s anything rotten inside.
I’ve sampled some chocolate, some ice cream and cake
and learned to be cautious of what people hide.
Sometimes when searching in somebody’s mind,
It’s like lifting a rock to show maggots maturing;
revealing the worms and the beatles inside
all waiting in darkness, writhing and squirming.
But crêpes are the best of the minds, did you know?
The good kind of mind, the kind I can trust.
It makes me feel guilty (and rightfully so!)
To think that that my reading is all that’s unjust.
I open your mind and I think, what is this?
You’re trying to hide it, but still I can see
a thought I had hoped but I’ve always dismissed--
I’m falling for you, and you’re thinking of me!
I’m happy to see, when I look into you
that you’re just as sweet on the inside, too.
Keep in Touch!