When she wades into the water
spray flies through her,
The Devils daughter.
I should have gone to light the fire
to scare away the night within her
but
saddled with responsibility,
I couldn't see the way to go
I lost myself in thoughts of she,
handmaiden of my reverie.

The night became a friend to me
companion of my misery
she took it all away and then
with one stroke of a bladed pen,
emasculated with a smile,
she danced along the golden mile with
me in tow,
the friend of foe,
I would not want to see her go so
followed her into the black
and now I know that coming back
is an impossibility,
another friend of misery.

I get to know them all
I see the future rising up, before the morning
wakes me with a shot of coffee and my misery becomes
one more impossibility.

One day the cycle will outdistance all travails that I've been through and
chains will melt into one link, which will teeter on the edge,
the brink of madnesses possesss me,
another friend of all the misery,
but it's Christmastime,
so full of glee.
The grandchildren surrounding me
I think that I might wait and see
just
what tomorrow brings.

The cold breeze of the air
The smell pf pine trees
Children's laughter
A person's smile
Those people working..

Everything reminds me of you

You, who left without explanation
         who left without a sound
         who left without leaving a mark
         who left me behind

But why do I still think of you?

Our relationship was the kind of love
that was bounded not to last
and I don't know why

We have that kind of love where I was writing for you while you are busy writing for someone else
We have that kind of love where all I ever was tulips but you gave me dandelions
We have that kind of love that endures a thousand twinge
That kind of love where oblivion resides

Maybe it wasn't really love

How to outdistance myself from you?

How do I move out of this suffering
of love when I knew that all my love for you wasn't enough?

Because we have that kind of love that while I was busy loving you, you were busy loving someone else

as holiday lights are relegated to festivus,

or the process of elimination--the eyeing

discomforts of the last to go.

there's evening air traffic--which implies

congestion, accurate in the sense that a

plane brings the sky with it.

a double negative, straightening out how

it should sound--from how it sounds.

the outdistance of a thing that shouldn't

be there, that's nothing but there.

the spiking rondure of a printless blurb

from reel to reel, as spot-on

abandonments of sky.

sky--the unabandoned.

where does that leave the hearer?

upon hearing the magnificence of

counterintuition upon hearing.