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'Oh, soldier, soldier, won't you marry me?'

in the cemetery, no one marries, she
weeps for the fallen, for the widows and
the spinsters, she cries at the nights as
she lays on satin pillows and prays for the
generals to all hang on the gallows.
 Oct 2020 Dillon Kaiser
Thy
IV
 Oct 2020 Dillon Kaiser
Thy
IV
At the end of the line
if you see me waiting
don't ask if I'm okay
just let me in
NOTHING is always
one thing
or another.

it’s just not possible.

not one thing
is f i x e d

you have to
allow
for a l l things to
—  (     (  ( ((flex)) )  )     )  —
The first thing I reach for in the morning

is you.

Yet you’ve changed,
you’re a box
full of bad habits.
 Nov 2018 Dillon Kaiser
CE Green
If your heart is full, it must be October again
annexed in California land
every whistle and bell silenced
by Indian summer contraband
Coffee from Zimbabwe
Crimson petals on the sheets
smile in the sunlight, dance to Billie Holiday and repeat.
© CE Green 2017
 Nov 2018 Dillon Kaiser
CE Green
Usher in epoch of sentimentality
Grazed arms with hickory, penultimate grazer mud nails.
An entire room filled with people I thought I loved, when thinking was entertaining the thought I once had.
Vocal retention. Left and heard, not wanted but understood.
Can you bring me back?
Is it possible?
Can you take me back?
Is it honorable?
 Nov 2018 Dillon Kaiser
CE Green
Mostly these days I enter a room, polka dot populated by folks with too much perfume, or none at all and presuppositions and a cold drink lingering near them.
I carry a shadowy painting with me, but it’s unfinished. It’s meticulously cared for and not yet ready to receive merit, let alone garner attention or criticism of ubiquity.

Mostly these days I find myself troubled walking into these galleries laden with baby boomer critical gazes, though some understand in a competent comparative fashion and look forward to seeing the end result. The saturation, and the color spectrum.

Mostly these days I wander into a tavern with a short story in my arms. It’s falsehood glaring, but with truth inside the lie. It is also unfinished. And yes it’s five years in the making, and everyone gawks, and watches carefully over glassware beaded with condensation, fury during October, the lights come down a bit, and I feel better. Mostly.
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