Geology & More
Belief swings by the neck and you
Are the rock’s ruin. The eye is soft
As it bruises. How many arms
Will be lost on you? How many
To the slag heap of your breath? I
Was a rock once too.
Once I was also a rock,
My throat hot in the sun and cold
In the dew. I grew ice
As my babies in winter. How the shadows
Heap up, curve to the bite
Of the air like a surprise, sharp.
A sharp surprise can ruin
Leather, startle a dog to bite,
Cut the belief from the soft eye.
It is tough to take the swing,
To become a composite stone,
When all I wanted was the igneous.
The map for getting lost
The shadow at night, during a smoke break
The images the drip from a leaking mirror
The crumbs of a laugh reconsidered
Five minutes from now, in egg form
You, who are not yourself, as yourself, as regret
Outline for Autumn
- When you imagine the dropping leaves as birds
- When you instruct the leaves to begin singing
- Increase your volume
- Damn it, sing!
- When you try to convince the leaves to return to the sky
- Eye the clouds
- Throw them if you must
- Colors already faded