It's November, I feel the war is almost over,
Poland will find peace again. But the war has taken me,
for I only feel the blackness of sorrow,
all of my strength is falling apart.

Oh, my spirit is falling, falling like the purple sunset,
My beloved,  
   I'm fading in the cradle of your prayers
All my soul is hungry for strength,
   the sweat under my side
and the thorns of confusion and heaviness
are only growing stronger.

Keep me awake, dear.
   Tell me about when we met,  when you
smiled with curiosity  when you first saw me.
  Tell me about the time when we hid and laughed
behind the schoolyard,
   right by the flower fields where we played hide and seek.
The time when our souls  only sung with power and laughter.

Now beneath our old house, our home, I can't hide anymore.
I can't hide the hurt, the pain, the sorrow, but I do know
the flames of grace burns over and over, so don't you cry.
The psalms we use to sing, they also heal, yes, they also heal.

So remember me,

   and the star I gave you, for then I'll be with you,  

near the altar of your heart,
by the silver rivers of memories and love, because then

I'll always be your hero and heart,
your wildfire within.

It's late enough already.
Scrubbing your gamepad, salty at A.I.,
thinking of cleaning metaphorically;
Scrubbing behind your ears.
Scrubbing behind the skull.

Contemporary 80's synth-rock in both ears,
I wish I knew what you were singing about.
I wish I knew who you longed for,
I wish I knew what you did, where you were,
on evenings like this when you can only

think

of the people you wish you were closer to.
Skin and talk out of touch. Imagine;
Conversations imagined aren't enough.
Words you wish were out loud
will eat your sorry *** alive.

16-bit racial stereotypes onscreen
pummel each other to mush faced
ground meat caricatures.

Groove like a shark trapped in a box,
make yourself sharp to the touch,
then make yourself tangible.
Absence lets the shoulder grow colder,
but this?

Things imagined and wished for.
Fantasies a child would seek,
pulling the words off of your tongue
An apology, a love letter, a eulogy
/vulgarities and praise as bedfellow.


Words you wish were spoken
will eat your sorry *** alive.

It was a hot day in mid July heat;
the city in decay, its asphalt melt’d–
hurry-hurry said my feet in a beat.
In mid July city heat, she depart’d

Still, the cicadas kept on buzzing, and
the city kept on living–the city nev’r
stops living–while the hot sun always lend
its rays: on this day, she left forever.

But she wasn’t the only one who left–this time
not on life’s watch, this time she really went.
This goodbye was the most sour lime–
the most sour fruit life has fed me! This meant:

when one leaves the world, other trips have start’d
when love leaves you, so Dearly Depart’d!

Will you wear a mask for them? A painted plastic shell for them? The ones that bid you no farewell and sent you sugar while you fell, so far. Deeper than Yggdrasil's roots, farther than forever. Wear your Other proudly now, no man is your brother.

You know that feeling when you can't remember if something really happened or if you only dreamed it?
That's what it felt like the first time you said you loved me.

It happened in that fine line of time
the border
between late that night
and early the next morning
when you can't find the sun
or the moon
and the sky's a pinkish shade of blue.

On my knees
in the bathroom
too much liquor
never been sicker
my stomach coming up
through my throat
angry with me
letting me have it

You stood behind me
"shh baby" & "its okay"ing me in cooing whispers
rubbing my back
petting my hair
despite all the times I slurred my words at you
telling you to get out
thinking about how disappointed you must be

and then I heard it
and I know I was drunk
but I heard it
you said
"I love you too, Sarah. I love you too."
and you kept saying it
and I kept thinking
"This is real. She said this. Please remember this. Oh god, please remember."

I woke up the next morning
next to you
thank god, you were still there
and you asked if I remembered anything from last night
and I said I think I do
but I still wasn't sure if it really happened
and you confirmed it
and laughed
and said "of course that's the only thing you remember"
and I smiled
because that was all I needed to


*s.mndi

South Pacific 1944,
Our ship under attack,
Men at the guns,
Zeroes coming in.

Smoke and bedlam,
We three at our turret
Loading the gun:
Projectile.
Powder,
Fuse,
and slam the door
to belch explosives
at the sky.

Man the post
Keep on firing

But then I knew I had to go
And turned toward the hatch.
"Good-bye, Paul,"
I remember someone said.

Half in - half out the door
We took a hit
Direct
That blew Jim's head
between my knees
And on the deck.

Two died instantly
And there I stood
Wondering
About
Higher Orders.