Both of my parents “don’t smoke”
But the pack in the bag disagrees
And the butts in the yard
Hiding spots in the car
Beer cans through which I can see

Both of my parents don’t smoke
Sometimes I think it’s a joke
When they’d smile their smiles
And lie to my face
But every secret has its place

And at least mine aren’t known

I’ve stopped saying I love you back
To the father I no longer cut slack
For the birthdays missed
And the time not spent
For the nights not kissed
And the love not lent

This Apple rotted from the seed
His love is something I don’t need
But night after night
And year after year
I fight his daemons
And face his fears

The sins of the father
Will be payed by the son
So in the end
No one’s won

I push a penny of a porch railings to feel
it plummet and hear it’s final ping

And push a nickel off at night so I don’t
notice the novel shine as it falls on a
noose

And push a dime only at dusk and
dawn, as not to disturb their daemons,
and as not to degrade their demise

And a quarter at midnight, so it’s
questions and queries with which it
quals can be quietly cast

Then I imagine myself as an inkling,
inching forward with indifference,
inquiring on the irony of indignation if I
insisted on ending it instantly, now

The first day I looked Spring in the eyes
I closed the door and opened all the windows
I didn’t care about cold anymore
Just sun
And green grass
And the warmth of a future

First I cleaned the muck off the windows
Intricate and impulsive
Every nook and cranny
Then
Free

The open window let the cool spring air
Bombs of pollen
Bugs and seeds
But I didn’t care

I was cleansed by the movement
By the breeze in a stagnant place
Under stagnant sheets
Where I laid stagnant in waste

In winter
I became a water droplet stuck in a puddle
Muddled and browned by time
Spring rain made rivers fly
And spring breeze pushed me in the river

When I look into the mirror for too long a see a row of cherry blossoms
My favorite tress
As my vision blurs the pink of my flesh blooms to the blossoms
my thin arms to branches and legs to stump
I am wooded
Wooden
Whole
Finally I am beautiful
And the tear leaves my eye

[Redacted]

Deny
    D e n y
        D  e  n  y

A storm rages on
Trees thrash and break
Windows and ears split from the roar of thunder
Colossal building shake and bend
Rain floods the road
Seeps in basements and cars and the earth
Waves throw their full weight at the beach
Birds and Foxes have long since burrowed
Sensing the coming storm

Yet at the same time
Not far away
A gentle breeze hushly moves the tall grasses in fields
Tickles the leaves of blooming trees
Weaves its way through the towns and over the waters
The people roam the beaches and streets with smiles on their faces and the sun on their skin

Everywhere has its own storm in its own time