Loving Izzy
is so easy
when its easy.
If you're the one
to make her laugh
it fills you
like a breath of clean cedar air.
There are pictures of us laughing.
Our faces pressed together,
our arms and legs tangled.
Laughing until we cried.
It happened. I swear.
And she would fill you up.
From head down to your toes.
You can inhale her smile
and absorb her energy.
She could make any day beautiful.
She was something.
She still is something somewhere.
And loving her was so **** easy,
when things were easy.

I proved myself right.
Not that it matters.
Its not what I wanted.
Now there's no locking eyes,
half a decade later
we're still ******* haunted.
Still disappointed,
though I thought I was helping
you were berated, endlessly taunted.
So then yeah it happened.
It happened, you ****** up
because all my comments.
And yes I still love you,
and yes I'm still proud.
But its not what we wanted.
I should have been more supportive,
instead of always reminding
that this world is so daunting.
Should have been more there for you
should have helped you get through it
instead of mindlessly talking.
And now that we're older,
I'd love to sit and talk this over.
Not that you've offered.

I'll always remember it raining
Though it only rained the one time.
We left the door open as it pounded down.
You picked me up when you kissed me,
because you could do that.
You always helped me with my shirt
but handled yours yourself.
And the rain splashed down
on to that old wooden house.
And the only light in the hall
was from the gray of the storm.
We always talked on our trips there.
Big dreams about how we would paint her.
Once we graduated college and you got the job.
And this would be our room,
and we'd put a rug upstairs.
And you would hold me against the wall and kiss me.
And the rain would come down,
sounding like a train on the tin roof.
Our hair on our arms stood against
the static of the storm
and the cool breeze it brought,
and the warmth of our hands.
And when it stopped, and we stopped
we would emerge into the previously submerged world.
Always knowing we'd be back,
always knowing this was home.
Our little farm house in the rain storms.

Since we moved
There are scattered pieces.
The fallout from explosions.
Pieces of us all
I'm little bits all around us.
Some left behind as well.
A photo of brother sledding
Tucked in the pages of
My algebra book.
Some pink rocks from the fish tank
In the driveway of their new home.
A box of children's toys
In the closet of a dorm.
Displaced and then misplaced.
Six people match the maddness.
We're not moving, we're just leaving.

Four hours left.
That is just two sets of two hours.
Twenty five five-gallon buckets
Up the ladder, on my tiptoes
I dump ice dramatically into the dispenser.
This motion repeats every four hours.
Two sets of two hours.
That is just four one hours.
I change the Pepsi bibs, and break down boxes.
Ignoring my drenched socks from standing water.
I notice there is an orange Gatorade stain on my khaki shorts.
The stench of mold and un-carbonated soda clings to my skin.
I take a deep breath.
Four sets of one hour.
An hour is just sixty minutes.
I mop the floor. Smiling.
Time to lean is time to clean.
An hour is just two sets of thirty minutes.
Thirty minutes.
That is just two sets of fifteen minutes.
Fill cups. “Are you enjoying your day at the park?”
Back in the confines of the station
The roaring fans make conversation impossible.
Never mind that, I work in solitude.
Fifteen minutes is just three sets of five minutes.
Unwavering heat and blinding sun to match.
My arms are tanned brown until just above the elbow.
Polo shirt tucked in, I am allowed one piece of jewelry.
Five minutes is just five sets of sixty seconds.
And a minute goes by in no time.

We had to drown the puppies
Because the mother wouldn't feed them,
Because they had sores and they were bleeding,
Because we could find nothing that would eat them.
Caked in mud not fit for feeding,
Because their mother had stopped cleaning.
Besides we had nowhere we could keep them,
Because there was no one to feed us
And no one to help us clean up
And no one there to teach us
That this burden didn't need us
Or that this shame would never leave us.
That this wasn't ours to fix up.
But we'd been lost in the mix up.
Always waiting to get picked up,
While the trouble only kicked up.
Too heavy for two kids to lift up.
So we had to do it.
We drown the puppies.