THE MAIDEN SKY

On the microphone whenever a
cute guy showed up to eat.
Girls giggling and customers with
no idea why all
Of the female staff had just
practically ran up
To the front of the restaurant.

Don’t Tell It to Me

Tell it to the sun
Tell it to the moon

But don’t tell it to me
Your concoctions

Your lies
Your energy wasted on my
broken ears

Waste it on the ethereal gods

Of the stars and planets and
celestial bodies –

They have much more time
Than me to live –

Billions of light years
And fallen stars

Twist the ears of those stars
But don’t tell it to me

Anywhere town

The train station was as empty
As a cupboard bowl and I
Examined the grain
Of the wooden bench I sat on
Near the vacant coffee stand.
It felt very smooth as if it had
been
Painstakingly lacquered for many
years.

I was taking the next train
To Anywhere-but-here town.

A town I think we’ve all wanted
To visit at one stage or another.

The make-up barely hid
The bluish-green bruises
On my left eye, so I wore
Large sunglasses in my dark
Surrender to the night.

Sad moon

Your mouth moves quickly,
But you say nothing.

Lies and a sad moon
Encompass your withered soul –

I can hear it grieving like
A widow at a funeral.

God will let you through
To a blackened sky

With blood red roses
At your feet.

Bury

There is food to be prepared.
They will bury the body
tomorrow.

Fifty drunkards ambling around
With food hanging out of their
mouths.

I can hear their teeth clicking
Against teeth,

Against silverware,

Against glassed

Full of ice and whiskey.
The room will be soaked

With old spice and overly
Sprayed perfumes –

These smells hang
In the air like lingering

Cigarette smoke –
Grey and dull.

The body is to be
Laid out like a banquet –

Blood gone and formaldehyde
In its place.

A million little pieces

In a loveless century
I am a million

Little pieces of bone,
Flesh, and a soul

That burns for the sun
To beat sweetly on my face.

We are all renegades
Searching for our

Wild horses – black manes
Boldly flowing in the winter
breeze

Whispering life, freedom, beauty
Into open spaces.

Hide

You turn the key and
Deadbolt the door,
But there’s no place
To hide – lost inside
The pattern of your discontent.

You peek around corners –
Looking and waiting
For your next failure as if
It is a tangible thing.
You say you can feel its weight
Like a tourniquet cutting off

The blood supply to your heart.

You try to hide your discontent,
But you wear it like a black veil
Hovering over your face.

The Unknown

The breeze is a choir of hooks –
The rain falls on spring flowers

Wanting to bloom
Before their time.

Red. Yellow. Pink.
Coffee and nerves overflow

From cups and fingertips –
Not knowing when things end

Or if they do at all.
Hot and strong. Rattled.
Unanswered.

Does the sidewalk recall
The weight of bodies upon it?

Mystical. Meaning. Molecules.
Some days I wander.