fallen petals

it is the poet
who is brought to tears
by the sight
of flowers dying
in a vase

night spreads

everything

ceases to be

as sure as

night spreads

from beneath

old trees

butterfly

 

the creature lighted

on my window

for a moment

before returning to the sky

as if to remind me

though wings become tattered

it is still

entirely possible

to fly

 

still with eyes

above their bones

ghosts gather

for gossip socials

in cemetery starlight

smoking nightshade

playing hearts

having a laugh

at what fools

the living are

still with eyes

yet devoid

of sight

garry said…

were you to die

I would do everything I could

to hold onto them

the twins

and I need to believe that

the way I need to believe

in the certainty of Spring

cut away

with the exception of the episiotomy

i was given during the birth of my twins

no one has ever taken a scalpel to me before

not one surgery

or major procedure ever needed to be performed

until today

.

when a small mass

was removed from the muscular calf

of my left leg

after being administered a local anesthetic

.

a minor thing

i should feel lucky

it isn’t more

.

 

possibly cancer

possibly nothing

possibly

my payback

for dumbassed teenage tanning bed gore

the pathologist is soon to issue a report

 

having been a mortician

i thought i was so fucking hardcore

able to stand the sight of anything

but as i undressed tonight

to find the bandage had come off beneath my pant leg

 

i was unprepared

for the cauterized sight of the hole

for nausea

the room suddenly spinning

cold sweat

and my body crashing to the floor

 

when i saw a piece of myself cut away

and death standing patiently in the bedroom door

 

i don’t fear dying

but i am horrified at the thought

of my leaving my sons alone

in this cruel world

 

the earth will surely shrug

we humans have felt
out of control
for so many revolutions of the planet
our coping skills
have evolved into chemicals

concocting poison
for every pest found bothersome
be they insects
stains
headaches
or other humans

we kill the source of our irritation

now the innocent bystander bees
are falling too dead to feed us

but never fear

after the comet comes

when every human footprint
has been filled
with fire and ash

the earth will surely shrug

clock out
now that it’s work is done

then go down to the corner bar
to have a drink with the sun

overdues

the only thing
that scares me about death
is no longer
being able
to read books