Monday, January 29, 2018

hum to the tune of sirens, move to the motion of flames

nearby, another inferno breaks out,
the latest city fire.
we select firemen, firetrucks,
from our collection of humans and human artifacts.
we send them scrambling through hopelessly
congested city streets, hopeful
they’ll get the work done before 5PM
and not add to my homebound traffic jam.

-

i’d like to think of these as eruptions.
disruptions on the cityscape norm.
i’d like to dream that one day these outbreaks
can be more like volcanic eruptions
from the ocean floor, hear me out -
wherein each one holds a chance to spew
a mountain into existence or maybe,
islands above clouds,
a continent in the sky,
a new world by installments.



2018.jan.29

Monday, January 22, 2018

second is the perfect place under a full moon

you were down, because,
you lost in the finals, again,
and no amount of chocolates, or flowers,
could console

and so i came over.

i told you not to feel that low, that,
“in the event of a werewolf outbreak,
you can melt your silver medals
into bullets. or shurikens,”
since you hate guns but
love ninja movies.

i thought a hint of a smile
crept up by the edge of your lips,
though not quite fished
out of the water, yet,

and so i said,

“that bitch who beat you (again) can go
find herself a stick, it’ll be handy
in the off-chance the werewolves
would like to play fetch.”

and so i got a full smile,
out of you, dare i think even
a little laugh, out of you,
you little perennial
loser you

and so i was glad.


and i was so glad
i could not suppress the howl.



2017.aug.09

Thursday, January 11, 2018

other R

one day,

i stumbled
upon one of your stories.

enamored mostly by your temptress,
that tempest, your muse,
i wanted your muse
to be mine -

in my whimsical mind
in a minute built her a shrine, then a church,
in an hour built her a city of cathedrals -

and i wrote the end of a dalliance -

.:.

except, that once,
that one time, you stumbled
upon my story, and you could not,
no, you would not,
let it expire

you did not make your muse mine.
you did something special.
you made me hers.

.:.

brother, you were a stranger,
brother, you were nothing
but a scowl in a profile picture,
you were nothing but words,

just words, only words that did nothing,
except: promise
that we will get along fine
when we meet.

- never did - never will -

stranger, brother,
in your contagious amicability,
you dragged me
into a trek through a text conversation,
talk that yielded a treasure
hoard of discoveries obscenely larger
than the time
invested procuring.

you told me a secret.

the kind that i should not,
i could not,
i would not,
share with the universe.

you gave that to a stranger,
this stranger -
me -
why?

am i left to find an answer -

maybe it’s this:
brother, you were far
richer in terms of human
affection, where you were warm,
i know i am
a cold bastard

maybe, that one time,
you already knew you would have
so much to bring in
an afterlife so full that
you could afford to spare me change;

that you thought me empty-handed,
that i needed to be armed,
like with one of your secrets,
this secret -
to bring to my grave,

one day.


2018.jan.11
+ RIP RSH +