nobody every
man’s ash
flecking shoreline
swallowed
whole
again from the sea..
we run for
honey-
lost feeling
in feet
tumbling down empty
chute, into
bath of
bees..
to lick the
stings.
Bath of Bees
shadow work
can’t rewind
to 16,
lost most
of 18..
through to 40 were
the shakings
needed
to see
my own face
fade..
into calendar
space
where a day
wasted
..felt like
three.
it’s my ball of
dread to
pet
til she purrs like
second
fur,
such fleeting
peace
in
bubbling
pool-
sinking into
voices
blur.
beyond shadows
i saw
the arrow
flash
as it pieced
wood,..
then flesh-wound
bared
to elemental
breath
in repose..
on dandelions
tickling
lips-
storms at
rest.
image: KLAU2018 (pixabay)
cobalt isn’t my
favorite
color
it’s not even best
blue in the
book
but sound of it spoken is
a feeling worth
painting,
if only to share with
those who feel
color too,
cobalt’s not my
favorite
word..
kicked the bucket so hard,
i woke harder..
to scraping of nails
on hot tin-
badly dented around
around my
brim,
holding stirred
waters in
as the well
deepens.
leaves-
tears etched
in bark,
forever if not
for good,
and so hairs of
past split
like cheap
wood,
pass me the
axe..
and step
back
into
closet
childhood.
“lighten up, take
a load off,”
are you truly so
courteous..
or recommending
weight loss?
it’s hard to tell
in each
case
your grin flakes
of frost,
so..
i’ll assume the best
incase my
trust in us
thaws.
twisting
rind-
wrung last drop
from the
clock,
first sip passed
me by,
knees quiver..
i’m fine..
but could you
ease off
with busy
talk,
i’m..
Out of Time
how sour
are ya..
fifty greys?
candy apple
a day
rots outs mouth, so
doctors say,
soon as your sweet
tooth heals,
do come
play.
