She's Always There

She's always there standing before the notice board
while I push harder into the table knocking my knees
against the wood jarring cups of green tea
the rain separates us the years ice up
in the clouds til the weight of their
memories overflow and it all comes
down they say we need the rain me
I'm drawn to trees and shrubs vines
flowers even weeds warrant a long
appreciative look at times she's there
still running her eyes over the posters
postits lost and found announcements
engagements arrangements for sale
and otherwise I can't get inside
her head her arms are crossed
hardbound across her chest her
fingers splayed out from her armpits
like small vestigial wings perhaps
she's searching for flying instruction
should the hours be convenient
if her budget allows or else
a tree house she can rent
sleep and eat high off the ground
or maybe the guitar maker
going cheap will sell his soul for a song
or is it just a waiting game the rain
bringing down all this lost love
and indecision all the moments we never
captured in photographs melting now
descending between the notice board
and this table in the shelter of my words
the tea vibrating ever so gently as I
rearrange my limbs my hand racing
across the pale expanse of the page
drawing the ink out of this pen I've been
carrying around not knowing why
never really grasping the reasons for anything
I turn around she's gone
it's never a crisis
just an absence
sudden perhaps depending
on the way I turn my head
or lift my hand
like this
just a pause
and a little breeze

Pomegranate

So little time the number eight
turning and turning on itself
infinity on its head
how arrogant to think
we can symbolize so much
so more than enough so endless
here it is again this time
the branches bare it's winter
one sole fruit holds on
our disbelief suspended
how she disappeared taken abducted
we stopped holding our breath almost
our eyes drift back exhausted
finding the red promise
its leathery case enwrapping seeds
all that's left
who'll take up the knife
split the skin
render the ground
open the grave
listen for the chthonic hoofbeats
even now on our hands and knees
we strain to remember one word of the prayer
the names of the prayed for
the way we cursed the ones we buried
the way her mother cried when she was taken
and at night we lie awake with the vibrations
of her desire for eternal darkness

The People Sitting There

Celluloid images flicker against our eyes
who needs to go anywhere when we can
bend ourselves into soft angles eat popcorn
milk duds twists of red licorice sticks suck
soda from small buckets of ice while the earth
stands still for one day and the eagle lands
the Titanic sinks and Elizabeth Taylor keeps
yelling at Richard Burton after one too many
cry the vicarious! says the madding crowd
while sands fill the pharaohs tomb like water
the Vikings' plunder nested 'round the king
floats out to sea on fire on fire
we follow the force as the heroes and heroines
dance and die on our delicate rods retinae
the curvature of our lens clouds over
with fear hate love grief confusion and
resolution give us this day our beginnings
middles and ends and rolling credits
for points in the star-crossed heavens
indulge in us now and forever just give us
time for a bathroom break the relief
that takes us away from all that war
or salvation but only the bits we won't
miss just remember now how outside
the day is still and filled with cars
quietly waiting to take us home
where we can rest up to return for another
blockbuster keep them coming
while we don't go anywhere
give us another box office hit