Bottle Dreams

Dawn makes a rainbow of sorts.

Blue and green, amber and brown,

off the broken glass outside your window.

You smile at me, white teeth a shock

in this rainbow world.

The egg runs yellow and oval

in your black pan.

I watch your shoulders

square and round, t-shirt bright white

in the morning sun of another day

that I sit silent.

You fold your hands

and I see in their shape

my heart, lily-white, in your hands.

Escaping Flatland

There comes the realization

it’s all changing.

Spider veins become spider maps you could move

a horse and buggy around.

Wipe rust off

foggy mirrors

and peer uncertainly

at a face that’s no longer yours.

Time your messages.

Let egos break eggs, open cans.

It’s of no significance.

You can let sleeping dogs lie.

We’re baptized by unnecessary actions.

Take care of yourself, now.

Fine cracks start to appear

and you could fall between them.

The White Knights

bitter fruit burnt my tongue
untasted by the meek
scorned by the strong
me
somewhere in the middle
spitting out the taste of something
I wish I hadn't bitten
into

Sweet Ice

essence mixed with ice
could be granitas
could be city suit in snow

Scintillant Orange

~~~

Inspired in part by Rainbow Stories
, by William Vollmann
[Also by the many indignities that can be inflicted upon artists]

the thinnest edge

all the troubled children
gather near the water

war is so damn hard on humans. even the ones who make it back.
and what an irony that the instrument that launches the sword is the pen upon the page