Photo by Athena Rajnai
I. Dog
the one who skips through the cold
claiming the block with his taupe coat
and over bitten jaw
talks much more to me than his owner
about cars, mortgage, life.
the grass on the front lawn
defrosts into icy droplets
as each one of Roger’s paws bounds
closer to the steps
of our front door
instead of his own
II. Old Friends
perhaps i sound a bit detached im forever certain silly someones will see this maybe i swear i’m not writing about your simple somber scheduled synchronization to my psyche personally instead i’m dictating defining differences from this place where i was planted to the place i prosper as passing holidays grab gradual gray growth off of the shelves and properly place it in it’s pocket please i propose you go away fly and fray from my memory as the years move by moderately measured with a bedroom not bare of a bed or frame but far far away from such a farce
III. Best Friend
as i watch the pools in your eyes glitter
you offhandedly mention the creek
and how my hair took on the color of the algae
as we swam against the running water last summer
this place is not deserving of you.
here is where neither of us will decide
whether to hold this life close
or hand it gently to the uncontrollable flame
of a horizon broken and familiar
you speak dreams into me
after a year of absence from the wood
our smiles erupt into the sunset’s laughter
that echoes atop the camel shaped mountain
it cradles the both of us in its untieable knots
of barraged blaze
meant always to bring us back to youth
with mouths full of home served on porcelain dishes
but instead lends itself to the dark
that has seen everything in our houses
and swallows father time’s elapsing
IV. The Woods/Downtown
the rot begins
as the moon settles itself into the sky
and the lamps under main street’s awning
begin to buzz with neon luster
against the flapping lanternflies
and fluttering snowflakes
the syringes lift themselves off of the pavement
and snatch at the backs of my car’s tires
in an attempt to deflate them
i will never part completely
downtown begs
with its coffee cup in hand
from the cafe beside the courthouse
and an emptied promise to rebirth itself
as storefronts disintegrate
into the storm drain
the small white car makes it uphill
like many times before and after
Kindergarten 