Trespassed

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both hands on the steering wheel
direct impact
no hands on the steering wheel
no hands
steering wheel into flesh
the soft
then the crushing
crushing of ribs
an explosion
an exhalation of breath, lungs
lungs pushing
pushing the heart upward outward
no more breath
no more heart
no more air
no more blood
blood everywhere crushed now
I know what it feels like to love

Photo Credit: A.P. Cook

Over

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There was that night
An only slightly dimmed light

There was that song I sang to you –I believe you sang back– about being crazy ‘ bout you
An ode I’m inclined to replay over and over and over in my mind, in hopes that I’d grow tired

There was that us celebrating love
An honest Thanksgiving

No Gown

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Are we okay with being alone
With no other soul to hold the ladder
To stand by us, tasting, in the test-kitchen that is life

Allowing, for once, after all the illusion
Reality
When we release our grasp and find no one but ourselves

Need we ask why
What mythical stealth robbed us here
Who climbed into this tower, cat-like, to gleefully take

What will we make of it
This secondhand plan that has nothing to do with the tales we were told
A finer legacy, perhaps

Night Crazies

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I’ve seen the future
It’s waking up alone
10:42pm
A smart screen left-untouched
Too long
Stream now gone dark

You forsook that post-dusk walk
Too alone
But for that cat
Third one, now
Avoiding you politely
Crazy like the others

Coy

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One Spring sing-song day
I took a risk
I lit a match
I set them words on fire, yeah!
Crazy wasn’t my friend then
But I’m swimmin’ in it now, boy!
It was absolutely Spring
I’d remembered what she said