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Learn to swim or else you'll be swallowed by the ocean.

(C) Tiffanie Noel Doro
 Aug 2014 Ian Cairns
Sand
The night I got stuck climbing up a tree
You couldn't stop laughing from the forest floor
And seven feet below you looked like the size of a baby badger;
A baby badger who was now in charge of saving me from my stupidity.

You called the fire department
And said a human confused herself for a cat
So was stuck up in a tree and therefore
In need of a local newspaper headline rescue.

With the height advantage
I saw three firetrucks rushing down the road
Epileptic lights bouncing off the empty pavement
And yelled down to the baby badger
"You made a scene for no reason!"
Only to have the baby badger yell back up
"You ARE the ******* reason!"
And I swear I almost fell from the topmost branching
Laughing with my whole body in motion.

Three minutes later I was surrounded by an unnecessary amount of red
"What the hell is going on?" questioned the Fire Chief
Amidst all the official uniforms and bustling bodies
All you could think to say
"Sorry officer, we binge drank the moonlight."

I know I'll never have Alzheimer's
Because the look that overtook the Fire Chief's face
       Cracked his professional facade
       Transforming it into an all too knowing smile
Will forever be etched on the inside of my eyelids
Embarrassment and hilarity relived every blink of an eye.
 Jul 2014 Ian Cairns
r
Dead drop
 Jul 2014 Ian Cairns
r
Underneath the painted rock
you'll find a key
I ain't much for hiding
but that's just me
There's a book of pomes (yeah, pomes)
beneath my pillow
You might find one or two
to your liking
But that's a'right if you don't
I wrote 'em
for you, any ol' way
Come September
if I don't remember
where I hid my key
That book of pomes'll be
still beneath my pillow
If you care
to take a read.

r ~ 7/12/14
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 Jun 2014 Ian Cairns
SG Holter
I've measured her right
Little toe. It's exactly 16mm.
When she grinds her teeth in her
Sleep, just rub her jaw gently.
She'll stop without
Waking up.

If you read to her in bed, she'll
Watch you wide eyed from
Your shoulder; study your features
As you speak.
She'll stop you if you lose her
Between two words she doesn't
Quite understand.
She'll thank you for explaining.
She's worth it.

She's allergic to sugar, dairy, gluten
And eggs. I'll mail you a hundred
Recipes I've created for her.
Tell you all the tricks
So I know she'll eat.
You get used to the hassle.
She's worth it.

She's crazy about cartoons.
Let her watch them; seeing her
Laugh beats the game
Hundredfolds.
She'll love you for letting her
Read for hours and tell you about
The story.
She'll be so beautiful
When concentrating.
Give her space. Yours included.
She's worth it.

Let her grow.
Let her learn in her own time.
Let her be who she is.

She was weaker before me.
Now she's strong enough
To stand up and do the right thing,  
Though both our hearts broke
In the process.

If she goes, let her.
Help her out, send her off
With blessings.
Say to yourself I'd rather see her
Happy without me than
Unhappy here.
You'll
Mean it.

You'll cry your eyes out
And scream at the skies. Then
Thank God for every minute
You spent as her man.
They were worth it.
 Jun 2014 Ian Cairns
Tom Leveille
do you ever wonder
about the difference between
looking at something
and the hallucination created
when looking past it?
if you look at your hand
it's all you can see
but if you look past your hand
there are now two of them
sometimes it's hard for me
to remember which is real
it gets me thinking
about how my father
used to wake me up
in the morning by rubbing
his stubble across my face
i spent my 11th birthday
under the assumption
that he might come back
if i drank his aftershave
like maybe if i could turn blue
if i could be his favorite color
on our bathroom floor
he would forget why he left
the paramedics were all sobing
as they pumped memories
out of my stomach
i coughed up the day the post-it note with your new address on it
burned a hole in our refrigerator
coughed up the day
the divorce papers came
and my mother
took a baseball bat to the mailbox
i've been choking on the splinters
for 17 years
it's been 17 years
since the last dinner plate
exploded on our dining room wall
17 years since my mother
started accidentally setting your place at the dinner table
17 years since italian night
at the restaurant on the corner
where the juke box
spat tired music
and like so many other things
it stopped working when you left
i guess it's no coincidence
since the juke box went quiet
that the cds in my car
only skip on "i miss you"
i've been hemorrhaging memories
for so long
and now that i'm looking back
i can no longer tell
the mirage from the truth
sometimes i swear
you showed up to my graduation
and last time
i was at your apartment
i can't remember
if the imprints of my hands
are in clay hanging on your wall
or if they were left in the mud
the day god had the audacity
to let it rain
or maybe it's like the time
i saw someone crying on a bridge
now that i think about it
i can't remember if it was me
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