Maybe a Poem or Two?

I suppose to the Diner,

Divining it matters.

Which birds lived in farms and which birds lived in trees.

But to the designers?

Are they left in tatters,

In the kitchen with you and the pups.

All eyes on the pickeling process, and you.

Performing for us our favorite show.

Which for me, could be any ensemble,

Involving you.

Im sure, it's the same for the dogs too.

Providing the supporting cast is food.

Sun setting over city.

And in front of me,

A river of cars trickles lazily.

I hear a howling down the street.

Not only seeing it's creation,

Encased by it.

Incohesivly in a link.

Stretching back and forward.

Undesirable to percive.

So this is the lions den.

Not speaking for Daniel,

But this is a great time.

Greatful for the experience.

Who hasn't been in the belly of a big fish

And made a good trip of it?

Washed up on the outskirts of the city,

I've given up Pearl!

I will never return your notebook.

Ten dollars be damned!

I kept it safe for nearly a year.

Save for that sunday,

When absentmindedly,

I wrote a small list of to-do's.

Even then,

I still hoped to return it to you.

But now I am hopelessly sorry.

I've let my will on it expire.

At night my love conjures images of industrial pharmaceutical greenhouses.

Empty, except for sweltering air and trees growing not inside but out.

Out of the houses and all around.

Breathing the same air we pass through our chords when we sing.

Place your faith in Athena,

Ares, Tyr, Hachiman, Kartikeya, Yahweh, Whoever!

As long as they are miraculously malevolent;

Give praise, prayers, sacrifices, acceptance speeches, and all your chips to thee.

Oh God's of mere anarchy.

If war and conflict are to be worshipped.

Faith comes easy.

Plenty of God's work for the eye to see.

Lung capacity like a whale.

So submerged.

For so long.

Breathing art like oxygen.

Who can live deprived?

For so long?

Pressurized like a piston.

Such pent up potential.

For how long?

Surfaced, exhaling poetry, inhaling peace.

See me breached and gasping.

Workers at your bar.

They will sometimes need a drink.

Drink at the bar now,

I will write about my life.

It isn't even a shame.

The way she covers so many of her large windows with those living curtains.

The light is still getting in.

Save yourself an audit.

Declare social bankruptcy.

For the Hollidays;

Just stayed away.

Time is a priceless gift.

Treat yourself to it.

Get some immaculate seconds in.

If it's a sin, so be it.

Just be alone, you wont regret it.

Ask the manger baby for forgiveness.

I heard you screaming and prancing on rocks.

A scavenger and a hunter.

A stone cold fox.

My multitail-ented liberator.

Wherever I've survived, I've seen you.

And you know where to find me too.

Subtly scurrying under the snow.

Franticly burrowing in the sand.

In a farmers field, avoiding the hoe.

Or just eating the scraps beneath a trash can.

Your mouse of a thing.

Wherever you are, I'll be somewhere around.

Am I enough to keep you gekkering?

The teeth across your index finger.

Rounded, warm, and solid.

Clutching the base with your middle and thumb.

Tight, clicking into place, and tumbling.

No sheath just a keyway and a turn of the wrist.

A lock is the reason for why keys exists.

I have trouble making poems about people I'm in love with.

Maybe I never think my poems are serious enough for the subject?

Suitable enough for war, politics, fear, and religion.

Spent walking your dog.

Smoking cigarettes.

Texting a friend to see if she will go dancing.

Understanding it's not her scene.

Emersion therapy for fear of rejection.

Smoking half a cigarette.

Scrolling.

Drinking iced Tea.

Asking an ap match if she will go dancing.

Understanding the unmatching.

More emersion therapy.

Smoking the other half.

Scrolling again.

Writing a bad one on the internet.

Pretending an hour was spent on art.

Sticking to your routine.