His Down's Syndrome makes
His age a tough guess, I'll
Say eight to ten.

Wide eyes on machines,
Ice cream dripping on the
Pavement outside the

Construction site.
I wanna work like this when
I grow up, he says in

Young enthusiasm to a mother
Whose eyes well up with
Gratitude when I approach

And kneel down in front of
Him. So you want a job,
Buddy? I ask him with a

Wink. He suddenly remembers
His ice cream and bites into
It shyly. Nods, glancing at the

Tools in my belt, the scratches
On my arms, the brick wall
I've been attacking with a

Wacker jackhammer. Nods
Again. Well, I'll see you in a
Few years, I say with another

Wink, this time to his mother,
Who'd look her young age if
Her eyes weren't as tired,

But you can start with this
And get some practice. I hand
Him my Stanley Fat Max

Hammer. His ice cream
Hits the ground as he
Recieves it with both hands,

Looking to his mother for
Confirmation that it's ok.
Oh, it is. She mouths a

Thank you SO much...
They walk away, his chatter
High pitched and fading

Around the corner. And I
Head over to the foreman to
Report that I lost my hammer.

Don't ever employ me.
I can work a good game, but
I'm too soft around little heroes.

When I close my eyes,
I picture your lies.
Vivid colour, bursts from your mouth,
lies painted by your tongue.
'Work kept you late'
'Traffic was a state'
'You had a headache'
When I open my eyes,
I see you mixing a drink,
I've had time to think
'Do you want one?' you casually ask
I shake my head no, plaster a smile on my face,
lace my fingers together and feign interest.
You suddenly jolt, grasp at your throat,
I sit and wait like a dutiful wife
as you gasp and try to keep your life.
You're out of time my 'darling'
Thallium has been quietly seeping into you,
growing and building inside.
Just like my baby, growing in me, one you'll never see.
Our girl with sapphire eyes

You didn't know what to say anymore.
So you didn't.
You picked up your guitar
and you played for me some more.
You sang for me
songs we'd danced to before.
And it hurt but I smiled
and listened to you.
You played all my favorite songs
that were all your favorites too.
I watched you
you, with your eyes closed shut.
The petals fell from the sunflowers
and your room got dark and cold.
You sang songs you'd written in rehab
that you swore weren't written for other girls
but when you sang them
your eyes got still
and I could swear you were remembering someone.
That was our last night together.
And I didn't know it at the time,
but that was the last music I would hear.


*s.mndi