sans farron

same old
time-worn
streaming curtains.
dispersing like memory,
homing in on me.

in on us.
same old white room.
night-orphaned.

same old new year's
eve of moving through
night-orphaned
uncharted sheets, but

the world wasn't round
not then, not when
you aren't where you are
supposed to be.

and i fall down, down
the edge of the world.
spill on a floor gone cold.
it remembered warmth,
was it of you?

but it's the same old,
same old, same old
story of every
awakening.

i tell you my truth:
this is not the morning after.
i knew with all my heart.
you stayed.

this is not the book i wrote.
my heroine never dissolved into
non-existence mid-story.
or anytime else.
she stayed. you stayed.

you stayed you stayed you stayed

this is not the epicenter
of the -
you were not the earthquake
that shook my -

this is not my world
not without you.



2012.nov.23

lunch break

the threatening hint of hunger unites us into
an accelerating force barreling down the tower.
the path of the stairways takes too long, but
the warp-speed descent of the cold boxes is
there for us.
any of the three can vomit us into the sunlight.

the concrete-armored earth is warm and firm
beneath the daily traffic of rubber soles,
and the occasional skin.
the gravity beneath the tiles push back against
our weight, a resistance ancient and unstoppable
and never ending.
the pause and the deja vu of not knowing which
direction to take is inevitable, an aerial tide
tinged with infected city breeze.

her artillery eyes roam upwards. the hunt for
enemy clouds begins, but
the heavens are a peaceful blue today.
i consult my tongue for a reminder on
the nationality of sustenance we have recently
erased off the face of the world.

a decision is made. a destination is set.
a rendezvous wed to today's death match against
the demonic, abyssal, hunger of high noon.
oh, don't worry, loved ones; for the low cost
of small animal and defenseless plant life, we
are unbeatable.



2012.jan.19