Inhale, Exhale, Inhale

The smells of
skunk spray and cigarette smoke
linger
in the thick curtain of rain

I cannot inhale for fear of distaste
     Avoid the bitterness
     Avoid my neighbours

I use my other senses to live
forgetting the necessity of breath
as the rain streams down harder
     my eyes capture the night
     my ears are soothed by the rain
     my mouth is cooled by the moisture
     my skin tingles from the chilled air

I sit at my window and stare
at the passing specters
and urge time to pass faster
     and slower still

     and slower still

     And then it all
     stops
     before my eyes

I inhale

and tumble back into the
mess of a life that I have

and that midnight rain can never fix

Junk Heap

A pile of rusting junk
stretched mangled arms into the clear
blue sky

I feel sick
Although I can't see, I know
that twisted former things
reach for me

I squint into the dark depths of broken arms -
each thing is beyond recognition,
a mess of had been achievements

Clouds drift slowly by
with the spinning of the world

This pile sits and sags with time
before being ground up into something new
     just to lie here again

I shudder
And cross the street

Back Into Memory

And you have lapsed back into memory
and I into this Siren's Song

Into the core of you do you retreat
I watch you go
arms pinned to my side,
head at an alluring angle.
I see you watching me
taunting me to run after you
forbidding me to follow.

I set your ship upon the rocks

You scamper away from me
clumsily
It would be funny
     if I could laugh

I shipwrecked you here

You yell at me
Assure me that you don't blame me
grin malevolently
cackle with bitterness

And I break myself down

And you have lapsed back into memory
and I into this Siren's Song

Blindness

The rain falls not so hard when the sun shines
Each droplet blinds me anew
reflecting prisms of light on the way down.
Sitting on the ground, I see the end o f their journey.
The years they've been avoiding since the second
they saw the ground.
But when I look up, my eyes are blinded by water
I'm crying borrowed tears.
That there is no much death in revival
My clothes drag me down into the ether
weighted with lost stories.
The sun bursts forth with renewed vigor
Lost stories stay hidden in the clouds
As my eyes start to accustom to a happy blindness

"Trees For Sale"

Buy some nature
Buy it out of your window
     No don't
     Get it here

The ones in your yard?
     Fake
The ones here?
     Real
     (ignore the plastic)

It's small now
but they grow

Aren't you aware of a tree?

Well I guess not
'Cause you're buying one from me

They Cut All the Daffodils Down

The cut all the daffodils down,
chopped off their heads,
severed their grins....
Only yesterday I passed them on my busy way
while they were waiting
for execution.
     (They grinned back.)
And tomorrow I'll pass their fallen stems
again.

I miss their beaming blossoms.

Broken bodies of newly released prisoners,
heads taken away...
Away
To decorate some table

Jagged stems are my daffodils now
Flowers no more
My life becomes colourless

They cut all my daffodils down

I expect I'm next

Fading Fast

The light at the end of the tunnel is blurred
and fading fast.
Lights illuminate the tunnel as I pass through,
causing me to not notice that
my sunglasses are still over my eyes.
I look to the perceived end
and find that it has been
absorbed into the persistent
brightness of the dark.

There is no end
There is no reprieve
There is no darkness

and we're all scared.