Journeys are mountains climbed
Earth’s center, carried on the winds of metal dreams
We bring together the oceans’ kiss.

This season, will you bury
your realities deep, and let my compromises shine.
Marry me, with your words.

Be direct, and after,
maybe there will be time for passive sighs
and controlled lies.

Now, we will be fine.
We’ll pretend there is no crying
Leaves will fall on our traces.

Here and there will connect
through intertwined eyes
and our savory skies.

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Mats line the hallway
pushed up against aging white walls
Inside the outside corridor

The school belongs to the people,
all the children, bright and shiny.
Beggars without a voice.

Dark faces run through doorways,
voices echoing as teachers corral bodies
- the ground shakes -

A bomb drops and fires spread
the school becomes a hospital, a fortress,
more than children run through halls

More than learning is tended to
Radios appear out of thin air, and brows
grow permanently furrowed

Another day, perhaps,
and the bodies will leave
children will run again

the school will return
someone far away will say it's all for
Peace, Independence, Growth

but right now
the mats are pushed up against the old walls
staining them with red 
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The dog stopped drinking water
3 days ago
“It’s getting colder?” Marge reasoned.
But it showed.
The animal was getting older.

Her festive orange shirt
dragged the rest of Marge
across the parking lot
skin spotted
with perspiration

Dan’s feet turned into skates,
and the animal hospital’s door
clanged, annoyed, in his prow’s wake

The old brick building did not
move – though it gobbled people within
solid, secure, unmerciful
windows shone without tint.

The orange shirt reappears
to retrieve
a paper from Dan’s car.

Then all is still;
the roof keeps the mysteries sealed tight
Hours pass
Finally the two emerge
the twilight has faded
into different shades of grey.



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Feathered Sighs

Wishes woosh by
on wistful winds of change
parasailing through tomorrow

We dip our chlorine toes in wiggling water
and wait
for the sweet sweet chance to fly

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Unblinking Eyes

As I screech through the grey, early evening, The train floats by, invisible.
She pushes cargo to a warehouse
on the damp upper east bank.

Doctors walk by outside, looking inside, pipes smoking and coattails flapping in the wind.

Headaches won’t cease without coffee, or laudanum.

A rambling honk in my ears, rattling an empty casket. Forcing missing tears from fidgeting pockets.

Night rolls on like thunder, twenty paces each way. The people thin and become felines, mewling to no one and everyone.
Skulking through city slits.

Day’s pains turn into terrors made of rags, dancing shadows take up the waltz. Deep night fairy dust lazily consumes open spaces between dreams.

Rocking here and there,
Silence finally makes its bed, suffocating Noise until his last twitch.

There in the obscurity -

A whistle blows, the darkness flees in panic.
People scream,

Dusted air fills the lungs
Sickeningly sweet smells force their way in
Gasoline and fresh bread

The pile of ashes once more lit up by apathetic dawn.

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