Thursday 4/27/2017 12:37:00 AM

the rain comes and goes. the clouds remain.

the edge bites down. loud bridges over quiet waters.

the dark stutters. a triumph of skin and bone. too many stories. not enough heroes.

time's grace is fickle. steep staircases that end in sober. long shadows spilling into the fading sun.

daylight comes and goes. the cold remains.

we wear each other. loose margins negotiate touch. intimacy presses down hard. but the creases fade.

the slope eases into to focus. we're attached. by the inclined plane. by the axis. and its helical wrap.

the gears of the ache. turning. grinding down the shame. until only the flesh is free. and it runs wild. like an animal uncaged.

the heavy math of proximity. counting too hastily. the accumulating deficits of the heart. the diminishing wealth of the hope.

Saturday 4/22/2017 02:08:00 AM

soft surrenders negotiate the mechanics. plastic kings on their melting thrones. stuttering despots presiding over the infinite realms of the broken and the lost.

jagged paths find their way. through the marrow and the sinew. the properties of when. balloons without strings. pencils in the dark. drawing treasure maps on torn paper. in bleeding ink.

the swing creaks. cradled in the lope of the wind. the metal rusts. inertia stutters. and we're strangers again. students of gravity's intricate poisons.

the seldom seen colors. the rarely heard whispers. it all comes forward. sharp heels dug into the shadows and the soil.

all the lies that told us. and the many that failed.

flaunt their narrow bridges.

and the bitter math we spend on each other. was never so right as when it was over.

Monday 4/17/2017 03:00:00 AM

the wind yelps. the edges snag. farther still. the terrible numbness of how spoils in her fists. fingers like curdled milk. palms like stale bread. the hunger is the feast. on the long road between then and now.

moments wear her. a patchwork of choices. time's boney skeleton struts. an arrogant emperor in yesterday's tattered rags.

it's not far. it's always there. a pushpin in the thick of life. gathering the miles. in long gowns and confetti stolen from sweat.

we never name the small places where we go when we're lost. corners in the choke of the math. as if we are counting down . always have been. to an impossible end.

our voices drowning in the thrist of division. our bodies weakwith the pull of subtraction.

chasing the sun. in a controlled panic. clay wings pretend to fly. stone feet try to remember what it is to run.

gravity laughs. distance weeps. and we are dust.

4/10/2017 01:21:00 AM

broken edges delineate the path. turns rupture. the sickness of distance. as quiet as she'd feared.

the cuts linger. unwilling to heal. missing skin not eager to be found. in the scrape of the edge. as it wagers on the best of our panic.

alone tells its stories. soft ripples in the enormous expanse of how far.

the rise. the ratchet of gravity. tightening on our path. the miles become us. all the perspective spent. on blue skies and prevailing winds. all the fires left to finish on their own. the char of the moment. crumbling to dust.

hollow kingdoms thriving under the choke of the sun. as the poison surfaces.

 the promise of the horizon. broken again.

Wednesday 4/05/2017 12:54:00 AM

it was a shallow ascent, but the downward was as steep as it had ever been.

there were green signals. tender as they are. all the turns much too precise. all directions gasping. choking on one another.

the flow of ritual. familiar dangers. the elegance of pain. as it navigates those failing bridges.

it's an easy lie that tears the seam. on frayed truths. and lazy thieves.

the waiting manipulated, but eventually betrayed. the wanting tore, but didn't shred.

it rained hard. it washed everything away. except the doubt.

long conversations. like iodine and plastic bandages. no one heals.

where it went. was never a care. what to expect. quickly expired and spent. voices souring. separating. all curds and whey.

i could see how far. the blade of the horizon. gutting its prey.

listening to the edge. waiting. for the parachute to fail.

Saturday 4/01/2017 02:05:00 AM

soft corners stumble for the depths. the stilted triumph and the festering defeat. wear the lie with poise and arrogance.

the engine growls. the vacuum gasps. a broad collision of grief. without a beginning or an end.

only the fierce thunder of now. crisp in our veins. and the dull ache of when. as it chews on our skin.

long lines stretch across the gaps in our intimacy. gears and teeth cutting away at the paler geometry. we stopped counting long before it ceased making sense.

it was only ever numbers. the cardinal deception. the empirical flaws. the staling of trust. as it sours on our tongues. all the small cuts that never seem to heal. filling our throats with the bile of intention.

voices tempered. sweet and bitter. like melting chocolate. years solved. by an unexcepted sweetness.

| Alcoholic Poet Home |
Copyright 2005-2016. All Rights Reserved.