July 13, 2014

in the summer rye...

“…the way life used to be…”

you found your way
past jesus and lizard tree
saguaro puncture wound hook-a-thon
old desert trading path
a river of souls as water
there where thermals
play tricks here too

the heat speaks funny
in melted faces and places
you thought you could keep
all your things attached
to other things

there is a faint rot
of forgotten divine
a bloom-sweet hollow
emotional nostalgia
when you want
to remember
feeling something
besides pain

eventually, this too shall pass
as torn skin toughens
broken bones mend
with compression
ice often stems bleeding out
when you flow with letting go

you session comforts enough 
to throw away the keys
turn-caging hinges
doorway promising
and window kissing
binging on lotto rituals
in your guarded Olympia
all puckered up in prayer
narcissist tight as a drum
waiting for the crickets
to find you once had
a few things to say other than
where did my humanity go…


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