With vigor I sit.
I sit and watch and sit and watch
the cries that spill from
overflowing bedsheets.
I watch knives carve away innocence,
washing it down with acid vinegar.
I watch the tears of those who know
no pain stream into a river
of ice and brick and useless words.
I watch myself, watching all of the
disfigured, dismembered, discovered
human race;
belong to,
holding on to,
the last breath of weak heaves.

There are walls waiting,

crumbling

as pockmarks of decay

beside sidewalks

along motor cities’ streets.

There are terminal

and forsaken structures

colonized

with ungrateful squirrels

that abandon

attics for creaking kitchens

with corroded sinks.

Un-shoveled snow melts

slow on walkways

unfamiliar with worn heels

or rubber soles.

There are forlorn relics

patient and waiting

for us to join them.

Silent, vigilant
Small fish glide through the water
Aware others prey

Dishes clang against the sink
Loud reverberations of ceramic against metal

Anger defies the covenant to fight less
Sealed with tears and kisses

Slippery is this stone of hurt
Lumped in her throat

There is no easy atonement
to distract and soothe

Her rant finds no audience
Memories fade of what stoked this fire

A coin has two sides:
one, copper bright,
reflecting honey-lit tones,
the other, dark,
hiding under shadow.

A woman, too:
honey-flecked side,
shadows drape her back.

I walk near her, keen to her scent.
Darkness and honey,
mingling bouquet of a woman.