Welcome to His World
A vein of lead-grey light from a casement
barely disturbed the darkness.
The man hauled his huge flesh out of the bed,
stood on unsteady wobbling ankles.
Varicose veins slithered the length of his legs
like fat blue worms.
He stared in the bathroom mirror.
A smashed tomato had grown in the glass overnight.
He opened the window
with a shrug of the wood.
Noise slapped him around a little
but air lacked the will to be wind.
Mirror
Deep glass ripples its serene surface.
Liquid masks bedsheets with glistening.
The soft pink flesh of a lover
sets free a cascade of gleaming butterflies.
Shinier than silver, a moon-praised eye,
a twilight thistle—picked, encased—
reflective of midnight, from the shadow’s
black silk to the light’s last firmament.
Tuning Down
The song is old by this time.
Maybe sweet in the beginning,
but now the brass is rusty,
violins sag,
and who has wind enough
for woodwinds.
“Get out your tambourine and wail,”
screams the gospel singer.
But my voice is dead.
My tambourine is gutted.
Yes, life was wonderful
when the melody was new
and the instruments
were fresh out of the box.
Learning to play
was the best playing I ever did.
Mastery had its moments
but in a monotonous, mature kind of way.
And listen to me now.
A guitar is still a lithe girl’s body
but it’s a stiff hand strumming it.
The Way to a Man’s Heart Is Through a River
No river just passes through.
Even the lowliest stream
stays behind as much as
its current moves it forward.
Swinging from tires
into its coolness,
fishing with a makeshift pole,
sprawled on its banks
recounting all that hasn’t happened yet.
These waters wouldn’t leave
until all that was attended to.
Bend down at its shore,
my reflection won’t let go,
the years ripple in place.
That Man on the Ledge
He was 20 flights up,
on a narrow strip of marble,
his back flat against the building wall.
A crowd gathered below.
Heads stretched out of office windows
or were flush against panes of glass.
The cops were already there
and beating people back.
The fire brigade, the ambulance,
were a distant howl growing louder.
Hair stiffened on the back of some necks.
Hearts pumped rapid-fire.
No one could turn away.
Nobody yelled “Jump!” but it was on a lot of minds.
A free-falling body,
a splatter on the sidewalk—
so much to tell their friends.
And one more crazy man to feel superior to.
Others prayed for him to change his mind,
crawl back inside to safety.
He was just a small speck—
manna for a world writ large.
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image : image: Pixabay
