Mourning Doves Alive Again

Halitosis afflicts the discussion 

Two tones

Distributed as one. Hang-nail dangles from their pinky 

Holds court AMONG the coffee cup.

Back braced against 

A

Cotton sealed spine.

They met with pigeons in mind.

Dirty birds. Dirty words. 

Clustered in flocks and folds.

Inside the hotel room 

Secrets assume a closed fist. Love taps begin 

Lust slaps and soon throat closures for tomorrow afternoon.

Reaching for an inhale

Four lungs collapse

Welcoming the last breath 

For resurrection.

Projecting a Sunrise

A frail elder enlists A plastic chair,

While

Resting their eyes on boat traffic, nominates engine noise

To automobile parlance

And sitting hunchback scooches their bottom 

Further back until the end is shared. 

The elder retrieves breadcrumbs 

From inside a plastic-bag,

Both resources

Gifted to them 

By the food pantry. They proceed 

To toss the rations

To a paddling of ducks. 

“Competing for scraps,”

The elder says

“Reminds me of Sunday school.”

Sand layers grass tips in khaki  

Portions disappear to shade the inseam 

Censoring 

Joint

And

Twist. 

Asphalt divides barn scraps 

From graze fodder

And 

Turns the dirt gray. Bright pink lumps 

Flutter above windbreaker shadows.

(trees in the country)

(concrete slabs in the city)

Off the beaten path 

Customer satisfaction finds solace 

In prayer.

Customers as in:

Fanatics for satellite television.

Fanatics for water towers. 

Fanatics for garages designed to praise gender norms. 

Fanatics for conservative values.

Fanatics for “I’m just saying it didn’t used to be like this…”

Universal Truths Faulted by Scotch Tape

Scotch-Tape portioned to an inch, fastened a poster to the window shop glass, dog-eared to make its removal accessible,

Prompting passing minds to hallucinate memories, of fingernails filed to nubs picking at tape corners, desiring translucent flaps to pinch a centi-meter 

And remove the tape.

Edges by metaphor alone offer a bargain. Allowing tiny steps a ledge to balance life and death, peeking at the canyon below, sequencing expiration with one wrong move.

Mask edges situate a crease from flesh to latex, commandeering shadows to disguise facial operations.

Sunset prompted the shopkeeper to step outside and take away the poster advertising their BOGO sale. 

Multiple removal attempts left a thin strip of tape in its stead. The shopkeeper measured the effort it took to withdraw the tape against their allotted time for the task and decided, “screw it.” They left the strip there to experience the elements.

Glass doesn’t age in years.

Glass is blank and reflects age.

Glass learns the truth and hides it like a secret.

Universal designs 

Collect beauty constraints 

And apply the definitions 

To the painter’s mind.

Questions pit 

These ideas 

Against frayed bristles

AND

Tape will remain useful 

Until

It’s not.

Last Person to Know Her Name

1.

A stranger in a blue wig rolled on the floor,

Her eyes rolled too 

Until sclera hues matched wall paint 

Matched Styrofoam. Loose change 

Founds its marks along the carpet. 

Police entered and embedded dead Presidents

In the fabric. 

“What’s her name?”

Reasons to name corpses.

Soft kicks to hips.

Officer knelt for prayer 

And baptized her blue wig 

With spit.

“WHAT’S HER NAME!”

Details emerged from 

Another wallet biopsy,

To become her future…

2.

Named to pay bills. 

Usurped from pastures to roam waiting rooms.

Safeguarding hiccups to liberate 

Franchises of speech.

Phone calls appear and remind the forethought 

Secluded in cranial doldrums. Pay the piper.

Fear the reaper. Kill the darlings. 

Count a blessing.

Dial-tones replicate 

Audio tinny as lifelines disappear

Goodbye to future voicemails.

Stale Green Light

Time dilutes stimuli with in-flux examinations,

allowing love-tap-bruises to function for hindsight.

Space corrects for

time

if removed for inches, letters and shifting eyes.

Time

registers an experience, setting the space

from observation to reaction.

Useless like a paper’s pink margins, indicating paragraph placeholders.

Space

where symbols belong.

stomach placement when sitting measures average table height this codifies the slouch taken by table operators leveling a spot for forearm rest or elbow balance to eat write or freak in full utilization of the tools essence

emperors ate at table heights that amplified their glare apprehending shade to dress their laps in darkness leaving vantage lengths in the light to avoid confusion as the peasants eyes dilated in admiration

Pills have strange names

Ibuprofen (NSAID)

Different and special

belonging strange names to homespun mirrors transcending their reflections

no attempted peril is worth

floating in the sun

.consider.

algae bothers surface water

.consider.

algae is spelled wrong

.consider.

spelling is a misnomer

made to contain

eye injuries

and false prophets

greeting elbows

while on their knees

paid corporate boredom

moderob etaroproc diap

sometimes i purposefully drink a lot of water to authenticate an excuse for leaving a situation

this strategy works great at work

like when a manager

traps my back against the wall

and i smell their breath

and words

i’ll politely explain

pardon me but i need to use the bathroom

innovative safety solutions

regulate compliance

corporate compliance

managers then designate a stammer

flabbergasted to be bested

by an authority higher than their’s

that of urine

polka dots presume an equal rank

rain too.

Rain drops and polka dots

are individuals

together a statistic.

qualifying humans for rank

suggests terms like “middle class”

equate humans

to polka-dots

assuming rain drops

return to heaven

over and over

remains humanity

a failed metaphor

for humans return

in name only

together in death

a statistic

History Belongs to What is Seen.

Dream hearse demonstrates the personality traits found in the bones. Numb guffaws, trace the lineage of missed footsteps. But the process to forgive never offers the flayed out loins as penance. Muscles and naked joints must’ve known the glass case confession isn’t a reliable source for cancer treatment. Obsolete organs. Tattoos falling from eyes to commemorate winking culture.

“Come as you are.”

Never mentions the horrors of what has been. 

“Or who.”

Who is a blood letting.

Drip. drip. Drip. opposite reminders.

Proposing questions to search engines determines popular rationalizations to qualify the world. Top results are dead ends. In this context, textbooks conscript progress, never a function to tell the truth.  

“Augustus was a Caesar and everybody loved him because he was powerful.”

“And Julius was a Caesar who was stabbed because he was powerful.”

Right Place. Right Time. 

Buying body wash, anticipating a drought but discovering a rainstorm beyond the automatic doors.

Staging the approach to sunset. Along the rolling hills, bordering the lakefront, city lights design fireflies in the waves. Human silhouettes fall in the evening, disappear into tomorrow morning. Strangers based upon what is seen

Life Offers Experience That Only Death Relates With

Cornerstone grievance designates a stationary place to mourn. 

Bypassing these ordinary symbols, comes the laughter

and

footsteps achieve relevance 

Atop

The world.

Green drapes parcel sunlight,

Dressing the room in golden strips. 

Highlighting cracks in wooden furniture 

Like words on a page. 

a

Motorcycle’s exposed engine

Volumizes its exhaust pipe,

interrupts the standard woosh 

Had in traffic noise.

Wrinkled sheets surround 

Crossed legs 

And in this repose 

Memories corrupt 

Fanfare 

Forgiveness. 

Another job sacrificed to understand sanity. Counting pills like eyelashes. Blinking to retain a vision of the world. Fit. Fit. Fit. oneness contained among the stars. Arrived late after skipping breakfast. Purchased gas station bananas and left the peels in the backseat to rot. Halfway through the roadtrip fruit flies amass, contained by the back glass. Windows down. Traffic noise suggests their freedom. They remain hovering above the seats. 

Until death.

oneness among the stars.

Atop the world

Overlooking tree top spectacle.

Autumn touch. 

Leaves wrinkle like sheets, 

But will flake off and cheat the dust

For microscopic space. 

Nowhere but the stars.

Left to go.

Saturday Colors and Dollar Store Items

1.

Purple makeup 

Washed out her sneer, 

Sniveling at near 

Touch. Holding accountable

Winter approaches to summer conditions.

Management evaluated the day. 

Stymied soft-cell accomplishment 

For anchor sets. 

And 

Sans the polished reverb 

Evaporating from unspoken 

Replies 

And 

Rhythmic emails.

Store fronts 

Presented symbols,

Styled in graffiti. Red meant the End. Blue classified starting over. 

“Something like a new day.” She said.

Thrift store politics 

Priced the fine art book 

At an affordable stare. 

Declaring Florence golds 

An empty channel, 

To host tunnel 

Vision 

For Art

Priced to move quickly. 

Boxes emptied

Of their products 

Left only 

As their brand names. 

Haunted plastic bags.

2.

No longer a bedroom.

Closed. 

No longer a sponge.

Filled.

No longer organs.

Spilled. 

No longer promises.

Forgotten. 

Holding Court 

Against opposite galaxies 

Another I 

Sees the stars 

And begins the light

Tunnels seek to darken.

American Lives as Entropy

Peace relinquishes entropy, 

Searches for mini-situations

Emptying the mode of

 limited resolutions 

To understand

EVERYTHING

Herein times death knell. 

Twinkie packets

Feed

The wealthiest quadrupeds. 

WHO 

Finish their designer meals,

Brushing 

Breadcrumbs 

Away from Named lapels

To be picked up by ancient cousins.

WHO 

Distort future thumbs

And use condensation 

Like glue, 

Gathering every last speck

Of sustenance, 

Promising expiration,

Not today, but maybe tomorrow. 

Held captive in the undercurrent,

Exists a compassionate person,

Separating ice to include 

Frankenstein minnows 

In the galactic scheme. 

 (what secrets, lurk like stars,

In the ice?) Dark matter candidates 

Supplying the nuances 

In understanding Life’s failures. 

Property designed 

Belongs to humanity’s waste. 

With nowhere safe 

To leave EVERYTHING behind

An American flag was planted on the moon

And cosmologists wondered 

How the flag waved hello

With no wind.

Translating the Pronouns to distinguish Maxwell’s Demon

“You should never be surprised by or feel the need to explain why any physical system is in a high entropy state.”
― Brian Greene

Off Brand cereal remains the standard for discounted nirvana. 

Frosted oat flakes and chocolate puffs perform their ingredients as nomenclature, 

Eliminating employment for classic trademarked spokes-cartoons to sell the love. 

Instead mid level shelf placement, 

Hosts a moment for the consumer to negotiate brand recognition and price, 

 To void their thoughts in imitation 

meditation. 

Classic dominance 

Proclaims 

“Top shelf” Vantage 

Pure lookout.

Without a life meter to distinguish the jump off point 

For existence,

Leaping from Heaven includes death

Whereas crawling up from Hell 

Provides the (presumed) opposite. 

Eating cold cereal in silence 

Emits the same crunchy cacophony,

Regardless of what’s inside the consumer’s mouth. 

Settling forever…

…what’s in a name.