what happened in

the smoke-filled room
at the edge of town

ravens sit on old wires
and wait

sparks flicker beneath them
but they don’t move

tires squeal and dirt flies
small rocks hit

metal and glass

enough to be heard
and felt

but not enough to break

when the dust settles
it is quiet

the birds eventually leave
and the lights come on

automatically

dig a small hole
to the deep

inside

release it
let it flow

slowly

close to the
surface

give it
words

to help
it move

that last
little bit

shape those
words into

something
beautiful

that everyone
wants to wear

on their
deep insides

love is young
and fast

sugar ray’s
punch in

the gut
knocks wind

out

you can’t
breathe

you can’t
think

you don’t
want to fall

but your
legs give

out

and before
you know it

you are
counted out

and she is
declared the

victor

only her body
was small

everything else
impacted the

planet

compassion
is the best

type of
passion

I think her
voice is

an echo

living in
many

generations
she will pass

through time
and be felt

just short
of forever

I am so empty

I could drown in
shallow water

I need you
to save me

you know so much

tell me something
deep that

will fill me
for months

make it slow
make it drip

into me

let me savor
each point

like only you
know how

there are these people who see.  more than others.  they are blessed.  to know more.  they go.  deeper and wider.  in space and time.  to see.  and they feel.  every moment.   as if it is new.

there are these people who see.  more than others.  they are cursed.  to be alone.  not completely.  just partially.  so some part.  of themselves.  can never be shared.  

not that they won’t share it.  but it can’t be shared.  it can’t be expressed.  by them.  in a way.  that can be.  understood.  by others.

but they try.  they will spend. their lives trying.  to bridge the gap.  in whatever form.  they have.  to express themselves.

it was crawling down
my wall

a thin white strand
extended

it was escaping something
or breaking in

either way I didn’t ask
I just reacted

I thought I killed a spider

but when I went to
clean up the body

it was gone

now I am scratching
my skin

feeling bites
seeing red

checking my ears
for eggs

thinking about what
will happen when I sleep

experiencing every second
of its sweet revenge

I wiped my
mind clean

erased all
the excess

all the things
that no longer

have meaning
to me

it’s so easy
to let things

linger and
build up

let them
weigh me down

so last night

I wiped my
mind clean

of everything
that means

nothing to me

some eyes are deep

because some
souls are eternal

each night we
lie in the dewy grass

holding hands tightly

staring directly
into the darkness

(as we were warned to never do)

you whisper

asking me
what is on

the other side
but you already

knew the answer

the seeds spread
on a breeze

like dandelion
whispers

where they land
is planned

they found a
home in us

so we could find
each other

we speak a
special language

only the broken
know the words

the laughing cackles
from over there

lips of a pack
of perfectly
manicured hyenas

unable to control
their simple natures

they speak simple and
repeat each other

simply

they would choke
on three syllable

words and

I would laugh
but they don’t

deserve my
sense of humor

I spread
so quickly

creating a disease
in too many

of you

the cure
for me

is known

has been known
for years

slow down and
question me

before you share
me with someone

else

but you can’t
help yourself

I am so juicy

it is just before it is my turn to speak.  my mind is the inside of an atom.  the inside of a hive.  the inside of drunk stomach. everything I want to say coming up at once.

before me.  she is speaking about the body.  the feminine.  so many ways to the body. the feminine.  touch…***…birth…rebirth…and after me.

she will use her body to speak.  hair as long and alive as the rays of the sun.  fingers catching butterflies.  her voice inflected.  deep thoughts.  fluidity.

everyone has a way.  to express.  but it is not easy.  not like she and she makes it seem.
freedom is hard.  one foot doesn’t always follow another.  most times it doesn’t.  
we struggle to say.  what we feel.  the fear. of not connecting.

something blocks communication
even if the words escape
and even if I enunciate perfectly, clarity lives somewhere in the miles of air between us.

freedom is hard.  one word is never perfect.

and they write
of monsters

taking our
pain and

making it
inhuman

creating the
misshapen
creatures

that terrorize us

separating us
from ourselves

telling us
we are not
real

because of
how we feel

but what is
more human

than pain…

perhaps
the memory
of our pain

we must live
with everyday

the misshapen
creatures who

share our bodies
and make us

whole

we all have
our limits

our weaknesses

one of mine
is direction

I do not
understand

east
west
north
south

I know
the words

but not
really what

they mean
I cannot follow

directions

perhaps that
is why I

have never
found my way

home

it is the
only way

to start
the day

begin with
the mind of

a beginner

knowledge
has a shelf

life and

it is getting
smaller so

we need to
ask more

often

question
those who

speak

especially if
they claim to

speak for us

the grass is tall.
around this tree.

with its thick trunk.
and hungry roots.

with its confused branches.
competing for space.

we lay out our blanket.

spread cheese on crackers.
drink wine and other spirits.

we feel the conflict of love.

the month and more.
of separation.

the feeling of difference.
and change.

the feeling of hope.
and regret.

we rub our naked.
limbs together.  

trying to make.  
the sound a cricket.

makes.

when I asked
for your breath

it didn’t mean
I couldn’t breathe

but I saw how
easy it was for you

and I really meant

I forgot how
to exhale

in a way that
released

some of the pressure
I placed on myself

and you seemed
to have mastered

the process I
thought maybe

I could learn
from you

lost without
my shadows

I can’t see
in the light

I need at
least a bit

of gray

things can’t
be clear

for very long

I will scrape
away the

shiny veneer
and look for

the oozing pus
I will discover

the secrets of
the beginning

so I can start
all over again

I feel like I’m being
propelled through
space and time
like a young Einstein
lost and confused
trying on various theories
to see if they fit,
to explain the pain
and wanderings
of my lonely mind
who equals when
what about why
and then
I begin again
to speak
the lost words
that no one understands.
I broke my hands
writing down formulas
for what matters
to explain the feelings
of an atom, lost and
out of place
in time and space

I hold these
truths to be self

evident
within me

a commitment
to science

to organization
and truth

a commitment
to art

to chaos
and doubt

the complexity
of this humanity is

to hold opposing
views within us

and end in
explosion
implosion

and the
creation

of Einstein’s
new mind

raised in empathy
not to be your

enemy
why do you

hate me you
never even

met me
you call me

a name but
I already have

a name please
let me

introduce myself
you will see

we are blood
relatives

the gift of
the internet

the curse of
pollution

there are
more stars

on the earth
than in the

sky

nothing carried
forward we

have no memory

at the beginning
we are beginners

everything is
strange and new

we have no names

for anything
or anyone

we can run
and hide and

wait for others
or we can

venture out
on our own

and be the
first to die

or to discover

she is star
of the evening

hours

twirling on
a stump above

the pond a
fog is forming

creating a mystery

as butterflies and
lightning bugs

dance around her

all she wears
is a thin white
dress

that lifts and
flows

exposing her
dreams to her

subjects

I shiver but
I am not cold

I shake but
I am not scared

the earth aches

she does not
want to talk
about her age

she knows she is
younger than she

feels

and still
has so much to
live for

butterflies
carry bombs

monarchs push
buttons

and we march
in lockstep

with our minds
and our mouths

she talked to you
and you mattered

at first it wasn’t much
casual words she

may have said to others

but you could see her
eyes were open

they could take in
more than the others

it didn’t take long
for you to let her in

she entered your mind
she felt your scars

and she wasn’t scared
but you were

you pushed her out
before she could reach

the spot

I lifted you from
rough waters

held you
like a swan

in an elegant
embrace

the gentle breeze
comforted

our broken souls
until we could

quiet down
our insides

and begin to mend

do not touch
this fragile

thing

it is poorly
made

pieced together
from other

lives and lies

there is not much
holding it together

it needs but
it cannot want

it lives but
it cannot love

do not touch it
do not break it

again

these awkward
moments

when we don’t
quite fit

something feels off
at least that is what

we are saying
to ourselves

the brain bugs buzz
and if we try to swat

them away they
will sting us

and people will
think us crazy

when we scream

the days changed
subtly

and then one day it
was different

not one thing
everything was

different

as if time
separated

and I was imbalanced

and I fell into
one of the cracks

and in the crack
there was no flower

to pick

nothing to hold
onto

and I landed in
a bed with

the humans in white
asking me if I was real

and then

one day out of
nowhere

I forgot to think

it was so beautiful
that day

the simple truth.  escapes me.  I see so much more.  but more is not.  always better.  more becomes fog.  more is a distraction.  more helps us avoid.  a simple truth.

small angels.  use less air.  small angels.  take up less space.  that is.  a simple truth.

I am a balloon.  floating.  a child reaches.  for my string.  but I am lighter.  than air.  and just out of reach.  as I rise.  I can see more.  and more.  so many things.   that were big.  seem so small.  so many things.  that were small.  are now out of reach.

I hold a spider.  in my hand.  cover it.  with the other.  it is my secret.  it moves.  hairs tickle my skin.  I want to move.  open my hands.  reveal the spider.

we want to share.  our secrets.  that is.  a simple truth.

power is the root
money is that which

flows through it
poison not water

the desire it spreads
grows exponentially

it has a smell
that gets into

your skin

rub all you want
once it’s there

you can’t get it out
it is a tattoo

on your soul
marking you

you might get
what you want

but you’ll never
get what you need

leaving the trail
we do not follow

wanting to be
the first to discover

she sings a new song

her voice tickles
my ears

a bird we cannot
see tries to copy her

we listen

lost in the tall grass
we laugh losing

our sense of danger

in the field of
butterflies and bees

dark brain
clouds form

portending
a storm of
confusion

the words
they speak

are too high
to be understood

combined
they form
nothing

of meaning

each side
drawing
conclusions
first

and then
looking for

words to
justify
themselves

telling their
followers

what to believe

never explaining
why

I want you
to swallow me

whole

let me live but
make me disappear

feed off me slowly
so I don’t notice

give me a book
with many words

so I can play

let me hear your
body growl

when you are
hungry for me

so I can sing

let me dissolve
slowly

and absorb me
so I never die

I write in pieces
and parts

they are never
meant to be

finished

complete but
not finished

they are meant
to be

components of
a larger story

which become
components of

a larger story

until…eventually

you get it

there is no end
to this story

we just tear it

apart and start
all over

the secret
life of bees

buzzing in
your ear

everything you
want to hear

sweet nectar
on my tongue

your favorite
love songs

I memorize
and spread

to everyone
I meet like

my sting

it is the pain
of pleasure

nothing lasts
forever

don’t hurt
my feelings

they are
so small

and fragile

they are
all I have

inside me
I don’t want

to be empty
so please

I am asking
nicely

I said

you must
have stolen

my dictionary
because for

the first time
I am

speechless

she smiled
and said

if there was
one word

left to say

what would
it be

I smiled
and said

he has never met me
but I live in his world

this man of small deep spaces

he notices the gaps
that never end

what could be
what wants to be
what needs to be

and he works
always working
toward something

he makes me feel okay
to be unfinished

to age
to become old
and still be
unfinished

to live
to be
to become

part of life’s
grand experiment
that never ends

to work on my own gaps
and be happy

a flower
in a garden

summer
blooms

nothing
has ever

been this
soft

and fragrant
the bee

that feeds
off her

is happy
to be alive

for its
short life

feeling
fulfilled

you spit
half-wit

the earth
doesn’t

need you
to wet it

it has its
ways to

clean
itself

we don’t
need your

mess

so swallow
yourself

your germs
are not

welcome here

the music was
mystical

deep and sad
a scream just

when we needed it

we moved in
and out in

a way that
could be called

a dance

our blood polluted
our minds clean

we waited until
the lights came on

and when we left

the streets were wet
the air smelled clean

it must have rained

a closed mind
a cell
a place with
stale air
and statues
rigid
frigid
nothing enters
nothing escapes
nothing is alive
nothing can die

that must be so
hard and painful

to never breathe

do not shy
your eyes

from what
you want

do not make
me wait

I will not
look away

I am not
an angel

but I have
read the

bible I
know the

seven sins
for which

we can ask
forgiveness

if we are true
to each other

if we believe
in each other

the boy had visions

he saw patterns
small and large

he made meanings

combining many
things in many

ways

he never tried
he just did

he spoke words
as if a spell

no one could
follow him

they knew he
knew more

they just didn’t
know what it was

he knew

the world was
bigger than here

but everyone he
knew was here

so he had to
leave here and

he had to leave
it now

I’m not trying
to be morbid

(as we live through
this tragedy)

but I think
balance is

one of the
principles of life

(even though I don’t
always live as I believe it)

so I can’t help
but think the

virus

is a balancing
mechanism

saying humans
are out of control

creating an imbalance
in the world

the reduction of our
activity

human activity

is reducing pollution
everywhere the

virus lives

people are slowing down
and that might be

for the better
but it is up to us

to learn the lesson
it is trying to teach us

it is truly sad all
the lives that have

been lost and still
could be lost

(including my own)

we call it an enemy
and speak of war

but it is nature
and for humans

nature lives to
be understood

so it can be overcome

only by understanding its
purpose (nature) can we learn

our lessons and
restore balance

we are not gods
we are part of nature

feeling loss

silence is naked
desire is a

shrinking violet

a blurry body
captures subtle

movement

the essence of
change

you have no form
you are ill defined

and loosely connected

you remain
unknowable

to me

I am a shadow
I am a crow

you create
my nights

when longing
for you

is my occupation
my eyes close

but I do not dream
I obsess

strangling any
other thought

that enters me so

there is one thing
left in this world