Remnants

wicker creel greasy salt stained leather strap on a rusted nail eaten by mice

crates of iron spikes bundles of tax receipts and the names we never called they must have burned in the ditch

—filled with eviscerated time, it skews the mind.

There are a thousand voids littered in concrete, labyrinthine, turned ouroboros,

we run in circles in the silo,

we cycle, we— the spiral of life, tied into every centennial tree-ring and coalescing tide, whirlpooling into the yawning solstice,

equating equilibrium —charted course haunts, compass falls deep into the silo...

I remember Alice...

We all remember something, but we forget the silo over and over again, it falls away,

it doesn't bend,

it never bends, somewhere in un-memory it stands.

We— hold hands, in a field that has no end.

love in the ground, like holy blood

to be soaked up and not devoured

But I’m licking at the dust now

wondering if I could be nourished

by the memory of holy things

Would it have broken or killed me

to drink these shadows down

to thrive off their putrid mess of

What isn’t and never was.

I watch the ground quenched

by this constant outpouring

And I’m alone again. With just

this knife this pain this reality

and there you are not once realizing

What it truly was to give or be there

for anyone but yourself and

you have not once considered

What it is to be someone who

gives more than they take. And

I accepted this because I am

A fool. And you are the most useless

a tool. And you say “love you” and if

this is love then, no, I do not “love you”

But that is easier said than done.

So I let you keep saying it and letting

you pretend you won. My sweet hero

All the while I am your sweetest

all giving blessing, poured forth,

your most belovèd zero.

Cambria

slow summer shimmer at the edge of the world

jk

one hand opens

unclenches from around

ruined stems, like a falling

a topple of petals

a wilting of what was sown

the once sacred geometries

of unfurling

color, given form by wavelengths

watched by eyes beholden to light

unmade by dark, like us, a loss,

a regret, a word spoken,

painted in anger

shade of scorn, in time, fleeting,

callous pride, a seed descending

from its host, resentful of the soil

in which it lies

the other hand reaches, claws

at the throat, where rests a scream

or a sob, refusing to burst,

and only chokes

and only suffocates

and only speaks as an undervoice,

defiant, unformed, unbirthed,

growing into something maybe worse

midsummer filled vases with zinnias of every hue

i wandered in a garden of dreams sunlit yellow lilies

wafted sweet memories, a song written by a boy strumming

heartstrings, whispers of a spell i spin secrets in faery favors

granted, to relive our best day together, sun bursts on a cold creek and iceless lemonade

tart contrast to sweet kisses, i turned and you were there

I cried into my mop bucket

then washed the floor clean.

Today I threw away my newspaper

as I went down in the river

and warmth returned.

In the shadow of the willow

I sit on the bank

trees reflect on the surface

graylings swim below –

old souls know

how the river changes.

A damselfly (in no distress)

floats over flowing water

glowing bright blue in the light

of the new sun.

A plant can grow

from silt through water

to surface in air –

minnows never see

how lilies show their flowers

to the stars.

connection touched a quarter moon. Find your

body suddenly when your mind doesn't stop, 'cause

I know the wavelength from on the floor. I pine for

something in your anatomy that needs to be

addressed, the schedule is fading before all your

about the subtle pauses, that gaps

the thought

placed neatly within the box

of the line.

Tell me you are mine.

Bring me lips or chaos

or chains or spears or flowers;

I’ll accept all the ways you hold.

Breath has become a burden.

Night never rises into day.

I’ve fought and now, I’ve lost,

the dolour ‘dear’ dying.

I rip the quiet veil from the

weeping woman—

Yet still the rain falls.

bordered by the mutating

self-image in a dirtied mirror

not unlike the kelly and sage

found within a reflecting pool

gone putrid

poisoned amid the grease-fingered

grip of contract bids

helpless to build its simulacrum

beneath the vampiric gaze cast

by blood-fat oligarchs

gorged upon the hemorrhaging

middle-class

its death throes the crackle

of discount fireworks

the sickening peel

of adhesive backing

sloughing from red or blue

bumper stickers

and unskippable ads hocking

gambling apps and money lenders

looms the eyes of our mocking mask

the empty wealth

of our tedious kingdom

temple of grinning suicide

dotted by bleeding-edged

digital mouths

built to think for those who cannot think

envenoming former farmland

and sucking dry the aquifers

the ancient waters yielding

to fruitless progress

as mountains once yielded

to their flow

now sold in quiet buyouts

a cannibal conglomeration

earth and the body entire

repackaged

re-advertised

the snake, still starving