The Poetry Marathon

The smell I remember:

It smelled like what it was

a burned down bowling alley

hauled to our end of town

dumped at the edge of the swamp

behind our grade school

blackened possibilities

bursting in all directions

We scavenged like hungry avengers

amazed at these abandoned treasures

ours for the snatching

Oh Fortune!

Oh Providence!

A crumpled candy machine

full of melted goo

yielded coins

Bowling pins

scorched

Black balls

valiant casualties

Wonders unimaginable

plastic in fantastic shapes

A drinking fountain!

We pulled out its electric motor and hauled it home

It ran

and once again

a smidgen of

Post Bowling alley

came back to life

humming

He read the quiet ether

lingering for impulse

entrancing moved the keys but

her ribs played his notes

her ribs played his notes

she invited knowing fingers

gathering a fist of music

palmed gently like a bird

clean wood shone

her ribs played his notes

whispering clanging

ringing filled the room

lifted from her cage

vibration came crashing

her ribs played his notes

her universe undone

If I could speak

I’d remind you that I started out fresh

shelter to youth

the boy still shiny

working fences

above the tree line

He stayed too long

thought he could keep the wind from his heart

but it tore right through

Funny thing is

those down on the flat

forgot about him

No one saw him fall

He didn’t so much die

as evaporate

care was not taken

and the calendar stopped watching

moonlight rattled the windows clean out

Wind pawed the walls

done peeled my tar

my skin ‘most gone

those UV rays

and time

have a way of

having their way with ya

and wood stays wood

for only so long

and the wind takes us all

in the end

She enthralls like a lighthouse

Draws me

Keeps me away

A caution for my own good

but that light

that exquisite fresnell

I am caught in its prism

I lie mute

across the expanse

I wait

prow banking in fog

turning

I surrender

I’m a sailor

who needs more than salt

Fire applied to water

Water gurgling through coffee

Slippered feet touching earth

Now if only I can find more than

Wind between my ears

Trying to remember what I might need to know about WordPress. It has been a year.

Let’s see if this works…

…and Go.

Red moon rose o’er the breastbone of Fire Lake

took stock of the scene without panic

the Jeep–curious–shone underwater

she turned white

and lifted free of the treetops

ready

to spare none her light

S’all I need

this tank here

hollowed out

good sleeping place

Kevin lets me use it for cheap

works good for both of us

I don’t need more

just a place to sleep

just like it was made for it

this old water heater

under the house

hell, the house is more ramshackle than my tank

far cry where I came from

done cry’n’ ’bout it

nice and dry

chickens for company

under the house

they get them bugs

sell ya my life story

ya want

Noble globe

green shiny droopling

tending yellow

harboring succulent tangy pulp

my tongue sings thee,

Hawaii

I fear the thaw

since she went missing

Not that I know anything about it

But it’s been said

she was last seen on the boardwalk

Just wondering if she’ll still be wearing the ring

but surely she left town

That’s what I heard somewhere

not that I would know anything about it

she’s footloose somewhere

sister in Spokane, I think

always was a free spirit

the river might have something to say about it

I’m just guessing