What is a tear but a rip in the
Universe? A jagged hole with
edges into your soul.

No not that but a tear that drips
from the ceiling of the house
that we built.  The clay of the
beginning we wrapped carefully

before tossing loss and tears
before prayers.

I pray with bent neck and closed
fists to hold the chaos out into
some facsimile of normality

while tears tear at my soul
and hope drops down the face of

yesterday.


Caroline Shank
9.26.23

Your song, like fire, burned into
the daylight skies over Mexico.

The cactus words stripped my hands.
These hands which held the
Universe above you for a long
Steel barrel you called Daylight.

I heard you when you said you
loved me, saw you ride away.
The cactus leaked and I watched
Your name form on the sand.
You turned and mixed me with

Jose Cuervo until I was footed
and could say goodbye.
The skies, painted by numbers,
wolfed down the landscape

In which I have been

erased.



Caroline Shank
9.20.23

More fool me. You named the
earth a green planet, the sky
often ten shades of punk.  You
told the Angels to leave your

scorecard at the door.

The Angel of abuse to the
Angel of love.  

Much of desire is so short
an afternoon.  

The bulls are running and they
Look to you to have

The answers


Caroline Shank
9.16.23

Vacation

Florida stretches from nose to
fingertips.  The bold noise of up
here relaxes into  saltwater
beaches.  

I walk along tidepools and search
for wildlife burrowing in the sands
outer banks. The sun is my
companion. We know each other
well.

My tan hands reach for you and
we are stones in the wind.
To love is enough.  To touch
is the breeze of  night.  We
stay still in a swirling mass
of gulls.

Tomorrow is Return,  Today
is the prayer for the birds
to bring their young  to my
castle.

Castles fall,  Dreams lie for a
moment where the seas spilt
the sweat anxźd salt of love

lost  


Caroline Shank
9.14.23

Sounds In Silence

Tomorrow comes like a slap
on my cheek.  It waits in the
drains of today like a cat, reaches
for my footstep. Trips me up.

Yesterday slithered into the
cesspool of memory.  I am
a flag in your stand of
cardboard in the window
in Chicago, at the corner
of Rush and State.

Today I set my feet to
find the last place where
the countless clocks struck.

There is no sound in the
Universe today.  All the bells
are open sockets without time.
I am looking for the trigger.

The last walnut cracked under
your weight without warning
and I stand here again

alone.

Caroline Shank
08.27.2023

I miss skin that doesn't crinkle.
The kind the doesn't matter
what I'm wearing.

I miss beepers. The 7730 hello
page.  The calls from people
wanting to go out to eat.

I miss moving like the wind
blowing daisies and spoors
of dandelions

What about singing in the
snow you ask?
The farther my poor article
could reach in the total
silence of the winter.

Most of all i miss warm
saltwater swims in the
early mornings, coffee
strong with sweetener.

I miss.you kissing me
with the wayward wind
playing.

The sirroco of my life
began in a dream.

It will drift like
phosphorescence
unconfused with

Poetry


Caroline Shank
7.28.2023