The other place,
Down below,
Really is closer than you know
Beware,
Its not so far beneath,
That’s why I never have cold feet
Bare foot…
Smiling…
I thoughtfully tread,
They read the book,
I heard what was said,
My chin is up,
My teeth are clenched,
funny you never notice the stench,
Playing my fiddle,
You reap what you sow
My place is closer than you know
©B L Costello 2018

Rural summer
    simmering and splashing
into shattered empties,
    stark parking lots,
        and suburban love triangles.
But quiet,
    onto 4am dusks -
skip every other step,
      timid wood always wakes parents.
Soon,
   play The Kooks vinyl in the morning,
skip every radio station
      into your 9 to 5 day,
while smiling in
               your dads ancient Subaru.

I have tasted chaos in the wind,
do you feel it?
As it passes through the trees
and scatters
to the ground,
we order these words
as carefully
as we can.
They are washed up,
broken and
like waves,
given back in pieces.

Can you hear me?

Somehow we are
lost in translation,
and I am afraid
we are too far gone.
Driven into the Earth and sand,
taken apart
into scattered remains
as you have been too.
We ask questions with no answers,
wandering into this barren place,
eyes, minds, mouths
seeking reprieve
and harmony.

How could I?

Your lips kind
with warm and soft words
call for parley,
but all I hear are
drowning words
through muddled water
as we choke on the
unbegotten truths
that anchor themselves
so deeply.

set up a chair
at the end of a tree lined street
not just any tree lined street
the street with the nice houses and cars
the street where the rich have "made it"
sit at the end of that street
with the cherry blossoms or jane magnolias
or whatever
and watch every one of those "successful" types
as they walk down their tree lined street
from their house to their car
as they walk by you, through their tree tunnel
watch carefully their faces
the trajectory of their gaze, tightness of their lips,
the experience woven into their furrowed brows
watch them hurry through the world's dream tunnel
a persons state of mind can be brought to light by a tree
the beauty of bloom, falling petal, hugging branches
it jolts excitement through human sensory
and so, when you read the lined, tired, hurried
faces- the dysphoric vacancy we've all carried
at some point
smile
create space
share love
just for a moment