Friday, February 7, 2014


in the midst
of the darkness
sweating in the roof 
of a cave I have never 
been party to
well, I was once
a bat who hung
with other bats
we flew off in directions
no compass defined
we hung together
drunk unaligned
grim grimace
the story unfinished
I was a painter
in a field full of dogs
I lifted my brush
and they obeyed
a train rides over suicides
the hall of rock and roll
slips and then fades
I miss you for the
knife wounded soul
I miss you for the release
crazy, unfounded like honey
no grief I miss you like
basket ball, you see
like mold that won’t grow
in a field of unease
but I have you now
a friend aglow
in newly seeded grass
in a truth forever last
in a chapter newly read
in that fearlessness of dead
in a pocketbook escape
in a glass of mental rape
in a way to compost this
in a way
we do not die
we do not rise
we flail among
the sketchy memory well hung
I wanted you
that brain, that relentless
I still do
Happy Birthday Susan
Happy Birthday to you.

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