she described it as ice
in her chest
like
a lance that tightroped from
her chest to mine
fought over at the breakfast table
because her end was bigger than mine
or mine had more blood than hers
or she always got to look at my good side
and why couldn’t I look at her without laughing

mother always said it was a blessing
that two people were so close to each other
not through birth
but by journey
and life
and happenstance
two people that tasted grilled cheese the same way
that heard the same voices of joy
loss
despair
but always stuck to the roof of the mouth like peanut butter
and not the generic brand
no
the 10 dollar organic stuff

two people that couldn’t help but
crack jokes at the dinner table
when everyone else was talking about
death because
what is death without life?
she would ask
and everyone would go silent
and float up through the
limitless sky
while we stayed grounded in
the life that whiskey brings

sister
if you ever hear me calling
know that I’d give you the bigger half
every time and that
you may borrow my three-hole puncher
without asking
because
I love you
and love stitches time without holes
and moments without the train station goodbye
and the rocks
well
they will always be rippling the stream so you
can go whitewater rafting and I can write poems
about how you fell in and found
a fleck of gold

A cornflower
lavish these
hearts of
gold in
fields will
enchant harvest
with sunshine
in a
row and
foothills dash
plains with
nervy glares
where whitewater
raft in
these rapids
that hallow
river bridge.

Falling apart is like falling in love
But without all the love.

Falling apart is like those times
Those times when you were a kid and scraped your knee,
But there's nobody around
Nobody to patch you up.

If falling apart is like falling in love
Then falling in love is like going whitewater rafting with your partner
But you've both got life jackets, and it's a Grade 2 River and it's safe and
You're having a great time.

If falling in love is like falling apart
Then falling apart is like going whitewater rafting with a stick for an oar
With no life jackets, in a Grade 6 River which is dangerous and almost suicidal and then
Your partner throws you off.

Sure, it's exciting
Homicide is exciting, in a twisted way, right?
But that doesn't mean it's a good thing
Because it's bad.

Sometimes exciting is bad
When exciting is lacking love.

We shelter secrets, holding them close
and encrypted. Hidden truths,
like submerged rocks that create
snapping undercurrents and choppy,
white-capped rapids for navigating affinities.

the tessellated tile floor of my existence,
once alabaster white
has sullied under the steps
of a muddied life
spent wading in the river bank
attempting to coalesce
a series of seemingly random events
into a fabricated web
spun of the finest thread.
only to find the ephemeral now
a fractious flowing river
so violent and cold
from the melting spring snow,
whitewater breaks
against primordial stone
like titan thunder atop olympus,
rattling our bones
because legends follow entropy
but chronos begets chaos in mythology.

Skeletal,
she had laid comatose,
thirty-six hours,
morphine tubes &  cotton swabs,
so cold to the touch.
It wasn't supposed to end this way.
I remember her in her better days,
before the cancer
had ravaged her *******,
skydiving over the Rockies,
Montana whitewater,
sailing the sound
between St.Thomas & St. John,
margaritas in San Juan.
She was the most brilliant light,
a beautiful soul,
truest fighter to the end
& I miss her,
pray everyday,
"May our little sister
rest in peace.
Amen."

like
a trickle
from mountain rain
it starts ......

my
Desire

a quiver of droplets
converging together
coursing through my body
consuming my thoughts
babbling down my contours
into my valleys
soaking my senses
with lust
growing in need
shuddering across rocks
rapidly gaining in momentum
uncontrolled
in a frenzy of whitewater
finally
reaching the drop
tantalising
at the very brink
pulsing
with waves of pleasure
before plunging
headlong over the edge
in a waterfall of longing
falling into the abyss
of fantasy

flooding
              the river
                        with
                            my song

(C) Pixievic

I work with a guy a year younger than me
got two kids
and two jobs.
meanwhile all my money goes to
whitewater rafting and books
and ****
and paying for school.
one of them is two years old
the other four months
and he doesn't read.
probably doesn't go whitewater rafting
either.