A bulb
withstands the stream
flooding muddy pasture
no silt will be its tomb this morn.
(It's home.)

Ponder:
How founts evoke
some kid 'neath weight of wishing
our masks feign smiles as players strut...
And scene.

Suffering,
bicycling west, just east of river's edge,
under overcast troposphere,
downtroddenly I recall
how shadows require sunshine.

October Air Is Balsam Unction
Applied On Weary Wounded Year
It Sifts The Sorrow, Stops The Pity
Warms Me Full As Cider Smeared

October Counts Itself A Seeker
Healing Memories All Mangled
Of The Shiest & The Weakest
Fallow But For Pumpkins Dear

October Rains Run Ripe & Heavy
Soothing, Calming All Necessity
Urging Onward Waning Sunlight
Naught Of Judgment In Their Bevy

October Grounds Feed Harvest Bounty
They Plumb & Sanctify The Hungry
Reaping What The Earth Spewed Upward
Showing Stars In Shadows Clear

October Dies As Spirited Singers
Mark What Mortal Meaning Lingers
While I Fear The Outward Wicked
October Lulls My Demons Near–
October Keeps & Holds Me Here.

One body in one bed
For thirty-three years has slept
One body in one bed

Poverty is the shadow we can't discern
From the ash tree in harshest winter

It begs a nickel and we give it a side turn
And structure it with bells and tax dollars
And stipulations whilst buying shiny
Organic apples with fancy paper

Sustenance is hard to come by, and shelter
But ignorance is cheap and in great supply
To be freely traded for scraps of humanity

It is surely written to gift but those leftovers
Grow moldy in the fridge instead of calming
The stomach of one who doesn't mind
Devouring your bite marks & saliva

Better from your hand than a dumpster
Crummy lots and crazy brains and foul teeth
Indicate a need or two unmet but persisting
Through change we can't bare to spare

And there's no time to sit down for a chat
Because you know you can't throw all
The starfish or rescue every kitten either
So I refuse the personal, and feel only

A second of guilt, and then annoyance:
I'll reflect now, and write him dignity but...
Next time I'll remember my headphones.

I weep for the breakers of things.
I cry for the destroyers
I mourn for the burners,
the crushers,
the warriors;
My heart breaks for the breakers of things.

From some timid landmark of dawn
From some futile cry of a mother in morning
From one tired yelp at the breaking of day
Arising despising the darkness descending
From some sparrows soaring
Where mansions are shining
And we with the warmth of hellfire opining
Weep yonder, we breakers of things.

They bled their red, their lines drawn deep
They poured their pots to wine
They gave the evil lonely sun
some bricks to bake
some backs to burn,
They sizzled, swaddled, and in air remembered
what life means to the withered, breakers of things.

Tarry not longing for some Ebenezer
Tarry not healing and balming the wicked
Tarry not over these dreams of ash
forming cracking among the sickest
secret heros of these verses
Won't weep for you, you breakers of things.

We fly with the fortunate
We jet high on the vastest expanses
a geography of sorrow
charting the grief of the waters
We dive deep down among broken things.
We lament holy breakers of things.