letter

Letter to a love now faded

Arms so corpse-like
thinning
cool steam rising
greyish-brown ash
sinew

Cold can be so cold
just enough
brain cells eroded
empty hippocampus
release

Forever, you said,
ah, forever
can be longer than now
infinity was vanity
swollen

If we lived in another time
You would have eight souls
And me an afterworld of loving
Your secret name, I’d know
But mine
(there’s the rub)
I’d’ve never told you in the first
place
(there's the rub)

Eight lifetimes was enough
we lived
we died so many nights
to live and possess each other
visitations

You will haunt my memory
Still, of course
I can't write you away
"Fade," the pen screams, "fade"
corporeality

This I know
Cold is the only truth
this voice on the wind
hair in my sink
is all that remains
of eternity.

Haunted Roads

on the lights-

of course they glow
but it's unnatural
in many ways

thousands of eyes
white or red and looking
always planning

you see things, there
assuming it just is
but, knowing, always

the unsaid all
hides in the middle there
and is, at night



what she said-

it will, of course, consume
much like a rat with cheese
at your ego and all

attaching to the psyche
your memories are what you are
you is, I suppose

won't say PTSD, won't
(but really, that's it)
a rather haunting

ghosts of that what happened



and escape-

truth though
truth
freedom
it's there in that haunting
a reason to admit it
all that's happened
things
things like poltergeist
sitting there
and we drive
see the whateveritis
explanation
thank god

To the Healthcare Professionals

part of a project. anyway...

Dear Nurse Forgot-Your-Name,

Trazadone is addictive
so is Vicodin
we both know this

you use scare tactics
don't/take medicine
so I do/n't

the truth is, your scrubs
are all I remember
about you at all

just a good patient, I guess
but a rotten respecter
of all your nonsense



-- I just can't write lately. Frowny face.