I don't think I earned my name
When I was born, my mother sighed
               the second she
           was finished crying
Saturate the atmosphere and mix me in
              with molecules.
Invisible. I'm only air.
At least until I am exhaled.
                   And then?
Carbon monoxide. Waste product.
            Respiratory excreta.

I don't think I want my name.
And, even though I love this place,
                    the fact remains
                    it don't love me
                  and I can't make it...

               They still get bored so fast.
         And I can't tell if I can blame them.
                     But it used to last
                        a little longer.
           Longer strides and clearer eyes.
        Aching less from years' less crying.

Ache with me? I'm begging you.
Stay awhile or call me crazy. Just don't keep me caught
                           on this line.
No more warm or candied lies, no jangling nerve, anxiety
or brutal, ****** truths out hunting.

I know I am not interesting, but mercy on me please.
                   don't leave me yet or tire...
But, no, I am uninteresting--the gravest crime of our day.

I don't think you know my name.

I wanted to look to you like I was dancing
But the bugs on my bark weren't moving enough
I kept reaching skyward and praying for wind
     Never comes to a call, does it?
You could trace each fissure on my surface--why don'chya?--
     Find stories and runnels for flowing sap
Saw me off at the hip, maybe. See what jokes my rings have to tell

I'm tired of waiting for wind; I want to dance (I think?)

I wanted to look to you like I was thoughtful
So I sliced off a sheet of cyan and I robbed the sky
You called me "thief." ******' mean
     Always reaching for silver, aren't we?
Try to touch irises, press pupils. I've never been further than now
     Stories all end, so I'm told. But this one? Still going
Hacked apart, trying to show you my pieces. Chunks. Rough mince

So I stole again to pay the sky back. Ex nihilo, nihil fit
I can pour from empty, because I'm magic, baby!

I wanted to want to see you in Springtime
But we can't scrape Winter off our faces
     Sling me a flat stone that I can send spinning
Slapping across the water's surface
Did I hit the opposite bank? You could stitch together separate days
     if you only had the sinew and a proper needle
Blown apart by wind and explosive expecting. Chunks. Rough mince

I'm tired of waiting for wind. I'm tired of wanting to dance (I think?)
Not magic--well--not the kind that isn't bone and blood and skin
That's the sort of magic that doesn't exist.

Maybe I am an Image
A comic book villain
A video game antagonist
Unlocked and playable
Free for your narrative

Maybe I run on
hearing-aid batteries?
Quietly chirping for
your attention
and affection
A dot matrix
mess to clean

Maybe I am
a Happy Meal
invisible sustenance
to tear through
to find the toy
Cheap joy

Maybe I am
The time you
wet yourself
discreet accident
of only your
awareness
The secret
of shame

Maybe I am nothing
A thing
that remembers
You
in absence
of us

I'm almost positive I heard them talking

Talking in their protective, yet complaining manner

They say, they only get to interact with the weak

They say, they're all too often held responsible for the bond between others

What's the matter with them?

They're the ones full of chemistry

They're the ones who can escape scott free

While I have to stay inside and act positive about it

Just once I'd like to not be in the middle of everything

wing beats of doves
tremble the air
with feathered sound

-as they land to feed
and dance
-the cut grass their stand.

On Your Own
Cold walls of ice
Steel in your eyes
Anger in your heart

On your own
Between silent walls
In front of windows of love
Painted on

On your own
On the train of childhood
Who sets the tracks?
Where did they go?

On your own
Without a steady place
No teddy bear
No shoulder

On your own
The view is quiet
So you change it
For the very first time!

You tear down walls of silence
Shatter painted-on windows
So the steel will melt
Anger turns to love

Open your heart
Come into your land
To the cozy place
Deep inside you

I love you
You are precious
No longer on your own
Never alone again!

the Curlews sing
summer songs
nesting the pasture

sharing with lambs
gambolling
calves frolicking

and mothers
sedately chewing
the cud.

Speak soft on foreign shores.
When the sands feel unfamiliar
And we are strangers to their law.
Heed the warnings of your clan.
Those who told of troubled waters
Where the oceans meet the land.