Poor, stupid, and
Preferably Dead

Squashed like bugs
You’re no longer a drain

Their pockets bulge
While you become a husk

Problem solved

Listen to the slow blooming of these words
Unhurried in their ink soaking into paper,

Like flesh consuming and being consumed,
Like water drowning and being drowned.

They rush in, yet slowly are moving forward
Wrapping the brain in cellophane to smother.

It will decay and the rot will feed, be fed,
As the words and our brains grow anew.

Ephemeral like water on the moon
Or a whisper into an ear,

This man, lying like the bend of a tree
Elbows bent ready to cradle me.

I could reach out, touch and feel him, then.
Now he is an air current swirling round me.

I had a cherry
You had a kumquat

I found a key instead of a pit
And you found a lock

Together we fit

You are like the weight of an object picked up.
Like the endless depth of a jug when filling.

In these moments of surprise, one briefly falters,
Questioning their understanding of actuality.

We measure the breadth, the depth, the weight
Of all things encountered.  And you,

You speak and I hear beyond the words,
Then I am crushed by the weight of your wisdom.

And in a moment, it is done
It has passed like the rising of a sun
Like a season full-blown or a flower
In its last few hours

Like a frozen waterfall
Or a stopped river impeded
Or an ocean held within bounds
Only the mind can replay its reel

I borrowed a fabulous line used by Meira Love and changed the tone a bit.

Between a season
Warmer than autumn
Softer than summer
More temperate than winter
You lie ahead