I'd rather hold onto
the memories of people
gone than try to untangle
the broken strings.
I've never been the best
at delicacy or alusiveness.

1349

I’d rather recollect a setting
Than own a rising sun
Though one is beautiful forgetting—
And true the other one.

Because in going is a Drama
Staying cannot confer
To die divinely once a Twilight—
Than wane is easier—

She smiled
her best hurricane smile
with lightening instead of teeth and
eyes at once anxious and unkind,
whispering first,
“you ain’t near good enough.”
Then,
“I’m probably going to **** you tomorrow.”

The gate has
an intimidating portcullis
secured with
a five dollar padlock
from Ace Hardware.
That’s enough to keep me out.
Over the high south wall I can see
broken glass treetops,
not so much reaching for the sky as
probing it for weaknesses.

I stand and stare
as day turns night.
Some far off moon rises;
a sickly crescent
that reminds me of

a smile
    
    like a hurricane
        
           with thunderheads
                
                  instead of dimples.


Suddenly
I am filled with dread

for tomorrow.