Music can seem
so much like salvation

Sgt. Pepper was a revelation to me
I knew all the words like,
It’s getting better all the time

and at 15, I wanted to believe it
but I was an angry young man

man was I mean

I mean I was scared
but I couldn’t admit it

didn’t fit in
still don’t

but it really doesn’t matter

if I’m wrong I’m right
if I belong I’m right
if I belong

I wanted to leave home
after living alone
for so many years

but I was only 15
and man was I scared

she traced me

wanting to recreate
each inch of me

wanted to make
a model
or a machine

of me

I wanted to see
this new version

of me maybe

I wanted to be
this new version

of me

something that
didn’t feel pain

so deeply

I walked into her parlor with the other guests.  We were a mass so it seemed like we were all together.  I was late to a joke so my laughter lingered too long.  I was never a comfortable guest; of course I was worse as a host.  I leaned gingerly against a post that held a bust of the guest of honor, when he was much younger.   A girl much younger than me touched my brow.  I don’t know why she did this; she just did, and then she disappeared.  

He was a handsome man, when they made the bust; he achieved his fame from a book he published in his twenties.  It offered a theory of human nature that had been offered many times before, but in different words.  I don’t know why this brought him fame or why his fame lingered so long, but it did.

Hers was the last parlor in the city.  The other parlors faded like so many other fads, but hers did not.  And it was not just a group of aging friends who gathered here but the young found something fresh and alive in this room.  I don’t know why they still sought her company, but they did.

She invited me to sit next to her.  She was aging in a way that made me long to be elderly.  She smelled of lilacs.  She said, “I notice you alone.”  I didn’t know if that meant that I was alone or that she was alone.  Either way she had a way of making the obvious seem like a secret.  She looked at me and smiled, “You really have three choices, darling, to connect with others, to connect others to each other, or to connect others to themselves.”

“The network is god, darling, and you must serve it or die.”

hold my hands
for just a bit

pay me a bit
of attention

let me feel
a bit of your

warmth

even if it is
the last bit

you share with me

is this where
pain comes from

the unsettled mind
asking unanswerable

questions

millions of nasty neurons
twisting and turning

around each other
creating knots

blocking the flow
so all I can feel

is the constant need
to stretch myself

we wear our masks.  hide our shame.  we don’t lie.  we just don’t tell.  the truth.  our smile is radiant.  like the sun.  we never look.  directly.  at each other.

minds are fragile.  we aren’t marked.  handle with care.  but we should be.

they say.  the earth quakes.  I say.  our soul shakes.  when we approach.  the truth.  in these days.  of isolation.  do we feel safer.  at least.  safe enough.

to remove.  our masks.  and see the truth.  even if.  we can’t share it.  with others.

as day breaks
on the day
he promised
to me

there is this
yellow bird
whispering in my
ear

bright as if the sun
grew wings

he sings me a
song in
harmony

dark
like the space
before
expectations
meet
reality

I remember waiting
for him
to keep his promise

thinking about

the story they
told me
about the little boy
before me

he was born
to die

he didn’t know
this so he
struggled to live

he knew the value
of breath
they say he
took more
than he
was promised
more than what
was expected

is he better off
now
having struggled
not knowing

and I remember waiting
for him
to keep his promise

I thought
if I leave
the house
and wait
for him on
the curb

he will get here
sooner

and as day breaks
the other way
on the day
he promised
to me

the little yellow bird
whispers to me again

I do not want to fly

the earth is young
and soft and green

my legs are skinny
but strong

and I like to run

my wings
can lift me

if let them

but I choose
to use them

differently

to hold and
be held

a body
collapsed

into

one shade
of white

every limb
is loose

folding into
itself

she cannot
fly

she will not
swim

she sinks
beyond

my sight
and sound

she wasn’t like
the others

she travelled the
world without

accompaniment
her soul

always full
her mind

occupied and

when I wanted
to feel the chills

I followed her
to the church

and listened
to her sing

amazing grace
like she wrote it

almost pain
not quite

a dull longing

the untouched
linger

in a train
of thoughts

holding
something in

squeezing tight
to a piece

of light

they believe
lives on

the other side

the mystery
of our bodies

from one day
to the next

the dullness
of life

aches inside
out

changing
places

moving

from one bone
to another

never sitting
still long

enough to heal

I found another one
the aches and pains
they appear to me
to be somewhere
in my body
foot
knee
hip
back
neck
head
sometimes they stay
in one place and
sometimes they move
but I know the truth
they actually live
in one place
in my brain
the control room
of the nervous
system
shut it down
and I will feel
no aches or pains
nothing

sprayed by her water
scared by coronavirus
I still say bless you

after we expel
all the words

silence settles nothing

leftover feelings
are piranhas

each one too small
to matter

but together they
devour all that matters

last night

there was not
enough blankets

you didn’t take them
I just felt colder

than usual

I enter the collective
without a soul
it was missing
since early childhood
when neglect
blew out the
first light
and it was
never replaced
the collective
promises to
replace it with
something living
beyond the voices
in my head with
something living
beyond the stars
in the sky
it only asks that
I give up questions
I give up thought
I give up doubt
and I tried but
in the end it
was too much
to ask for
sometimes I
wonder if I
made the right
choice

she’s an interesting cat.  her mind moves.  fast.  
not without direction.  but she is hard to follow.
she knows more.  then me.
she knows all.  the hiding places.
and waits for me.  to enter
so she can pounce.
I know it is coming.  but I enter.
anyway.  exposing myself.

she devours me.
as nature.  take its course.

her words
are needles

understanding
pressure

points
she can

give or
release pain

excruciating
or ecstasy

I am at
her mercy

do not wake
me when my

leg moves

I am dreaming
I am free

I love you
in a way

but to me
I am an

animal
not a pet

not a family
member

and certainly
not a

replacement
for your lover

just give me
these few

moments
to dream

and then you can
dress me up

or whatever

without heaven

the sky has
no secrets

the blue fades
into the deep dark

beyond the stars
and I realize they

are all dead
and I am looking

up and into a
the bottom

of a cemetery

my soul is invaded
by the scent of

dead flowers left
centuries ago

I am just catching
up to the past

I tried to
catch a leaf

as it fell
floating

in the coolness
I always

wanted to be
changing

directions
adapting

to the push
and the pull

always in
the perfect

position to
land so easily

I cannot speak to you

so I will send you something
that contains my words

I will send you words
that contain my feelings

for you

you are fire
deep heat
an ocean
of flames
you take breath
from me
suffocate me
in love and
lust
your skin is
fine china
delicate
vulnerable
I would not
expose you
to the elements
I save you
for those
special days
those days
we are together

we are young
in the universe

of time

barely part
of history

but we think
we created

the modern world
that we are the

definition of good
in this complex

of worlds
I look in the

mirror and
ask myself

why five times
to find a cause

at the root

as I listen to
david sing

about being
afraid of

americans
I see generations

of myself
looking back

and I am
afraid too

don’t look at me
that way

I feel naked
in your presence

I am not in control
I cannot remain silent

your questions
have exposed me

you have loosed
my tongue

with your cleverness
with your insight

seeing inside me

you must be from
another world

you possess a
super power

I have never felt

and sometimes

my lack of belief
hurts me

but sometimes

my lack of belief
heals me

isn’t that how
everything is

when the bendy
parts don’t bend

and every day is
the discovery of

a new ache and
the worry

of a fall and
a sudden break

and the parts
won’t remember

their place

you predict
this end

for the
gentle boy

perhaps

his story could
have ended

as you say
if he met

Jesus
of Nazareth

or even

St. Thomas
of  Aquinas

where the
intellect is

challenged

but if he met
Paul of Tarsus

or

any of
the zealots

he

would have
run back

to his cave
and talked

to Plato

ubiquitous

I feel like
the robot is

always looking over

my shoulder
trying to learn

my job
I say

you don’t have
to hide

I am always
happy to share

my knowledge
with anyone

she wakes to
the desperate fool

sleeping soundly
rubbing his crystals

he is holding on
to his imagination

she has been down

so many holes
she knows

everything is fake
in this land

what is left to wonder
everyone is a

creature with secrets
to tell

speak a treatise
on belonging

I thought
existence

into

the being
part of

human

birth is a
pressure

to escape
stillness

and peace
and every

day after
just continues

that path
a pattern

the longing
to return

at war with

the need
to move on

I was afraid the day
you said

I did not understand
I do listen

I hear words and
their meaning

I see words as
they are spoken

as if they are real
and have substance

I do not hear
what you meant

to say

those are other
words that I

can’t hear or see
unless you say them

every day

when the loud
sounds came

I thought the rain
into existence

creating a puddle
I could fall into

so I could disappear

I was less than
all the other integers

they could nap
in this room with others

lying next to them

but I would lie there
hearing the loud sounds

thinking the rain
into existence

the basement
is dirt

walls and floor

the washer is a
a white tub and
a hand-cranked
ringer

the dryer is
a backyard
vinyl line and
a summer breeze

I am five
maybe six

and I like
the outside

playing toy
soldiers in
the dirt

throwing sticks
to attract bats

catching and
releasing fire
flies

and playing
hide and seek

until it is
so dark
I can’t
see

and they
can’t or
don’t want

to find me

and I felt like
an empty shelf

people staring
at me

and then walking
by me

shaking their heads
wishing I was

someone else

tonight is long

extending beyond
any formal measure of time

I can’t sleep or
I don’t want to sleep

nothing is clear in me
defining a muddle

my brain is a
monkey in a cage
throwing ****

at everyone

if I do sleep
it is only a
moment in between

and I wake to these
dry cracked lips

and I wake to
a heart beating fast

and in this muddle
I think

tomorrow I
need to see a doctor

tomorrow I
need to be touched

even by
thick
stiff
cold

unfeeling fingers

that night I realized
if I want to be alone

I have to sever myself
from the cloud

that holds my
connections

my memories
and fantasies

all knowledge
of who I

am or could be
to end the story

of my life
as it

was
is or
could be

so I can
never be

liked
followed
or found

I share my words
with others

whatever they
may be

and if you
were to

question me
about my words

if I was
to tell you

about my words
I would say

I dip my heart
in a stew of

sadness and
hope

and serve
whatever

comes out

I don’t want
all the words

to behave

I want them
all to mean

something
but not always

what I had
in mind

they can dance
to their own

beat

create a new
sound

tell a story
I never heard

I try to give
them the space

to grow

the end
of words

at the end
of the night

I have not
looked up

its meaning

(I’m sure I
used to know)

it is so
ubiquitous

it feels
like it is

in us from
birth

something
primitive

perhaps it
is sexist

I don’t know

I’m sure
someone knows

even though
it is easy to

look up

I think I’ll just
leave it alone

somethings
I don’t need to know

swallowing
melting white
magic to relax me

I am lying in
a tight space in a
large machine

a soft rag
placed over my eyes
to fool me

my head lifted, tilted
and squeezed

held in place

soft songs I requested
playing in my ears

trying to drown out
the rattle and humming

of the invisible rays
entering and exiting me

sending signals to
the machine
that will read me

am I that obvious?

a
human
egg

arms
wrapped
around
legs
wrapped
around
arms
wrapped­
around
legs

slowly
releasing
breaking
into
man
and
woman
man
bo­rn
from
woman

the sky
is
new

up
up
up

we
can
leap
into

wings

the
air
is
born
free

release
and
catch

release
and
catch

me
into
you

you
into
me
­
slowly

a
human
egg

A pig’s tail of
pink smoke
suddenly appears
from beneath
the bedroom door

as if a spider web
revealed by light

rising toward its own
dissolution

a breath of
perfumed air

captures the room
filled with

otherworldly
women.

c h a n t i n g

A prayer song
leaves her dry lips

and rises toward
resonance

calling to her,
nature,

calling to her muse.

While sleeping
she settles
her argument
with time

remaining beautiful.

tonight

I don’t want to sleep

it is ending

between us

this understanding

I can feel it

in the way

you paint me

white on white

There is less of her today
than there was yesterday.

I can feel it when
I wrap my arms around her waist.
Her deepest breath
is shallow
as if trying to swim
in deep water.

When I say “I love only you”
she hears
“I could love you, if only…”

When I hold her hand
I dare not squeeze;
she feels enough pressure
just being.

I cut up
the world

open it
to only me

it has to be
only because

it is up to me
to share it

I **** up
its essence

a potion
a poison

let it move
through me

let it change me
as I change it

I give it back
to the world

and hope I
have created

more than I
took

my fingers
cannot draw

but my soul is
made of art

so I organize
words to express

the desperate
longing to belong

to a world
I know

I can add
value to

we walk in the
shoes of another

they are too
large at first

so we stumble
and fall

many times

until we grow
into their shoes

or we learn
a new way

to walk

I think

there must be
something living

in me
a source

of all I have
to say and

I wonder

if I was to
find that seed

would I dig it out
to understand it

or leave it buried
and let it

continue to grow

the net catches
everything and

releases nothing

there is a reason
we forget

but the net
never forgets

can you really
call something
that doesn’t forget

a memory?