The Poetry Marathon

I come to tell you

not to worry

Pink clouds carry on as they should

Winds carry seeds

Ice melts

Fire burns

The Earth cares for herself

Human, you are no less mysterious than

the salmon

You both work so hard

only to reach death

The chain is unbroken

You see yourself as separate from Nature

This is a fallacy

You are Nature as are we

Each is consumed in the end

only to live on

as nourishment for some other beast

If this be cause to furrow your brow

please know that your suffering is not mandatory

Choose it if you wish

or consider for a moment the glory

The was that was Lahaina reaches

across time and space

Man loads clothes that smell of smoke

Back when the pants she wore were called dungarees

the tomboy and I roughhoused in the backyard at Bradley’s house

where a trellis produced white roses you could eat, so I was told

I had suspected a trick

but they tasted sweet

Amid the grappling and grunting

suddenly a mystery scent arose

an odd presence reached from the soil beneath us

puzzling the space surrounding us

We stopped

looked at each other and moved apart

We didn’t wrestle again

We had all the money in the world

and wanted a tiny house

She said there’s this gate house for sale

gates not included

but it has this road

it bubbles like an island in the middle of this nowhere

road with nice yellow stripes making sexy curves

It’s the tiny house we always wanted

destentatious

So we bought it

Bought the road too

to keep away the riff raff

She called it cute, as women do

It was perfect for us

idyllic

until she painted the interior lime green

while I was at the dentist

That’s the last time I’ll go to the dentist

obviously

Testing, testing

Hey, ya’ll, have fun!

Sleep

I have not forsaken thee

My brain corralled my body bright

To stay awake the chunk of night

and hover through the live long day

to where we sit at nightly bay

Oh, shriek, Oh sing

I take my leave

to let my heavy body heave

to meet the bed

perchance to dream

a lovely dream

of sleep

1:19 AM here

Quiet has returned to the space outside my window

My leg vibrates

shaking the last of its caffeination into the floor

The desk jiggles

Neither of us so confident

of our support above the garage

Prescription drugs ever-present watch

from their cloistered plastic box

Snacks galore will survive for many days hence

The Apartment Across the Way is vacant now

unlike one year ago

more could be said but

suffice to say that

some of the darkness has passed

Please, landlord, burn some sage in there

for the sake of all of us remaining

Tenderness, she said

Alright tenderness, he said

And don’t forget kindness

Of course

But passion is okay, right?

Sure, as long as it’s tender kind passion

I totally agree

But what would that look like?

Hmm?

Tender kind passion. What would it look like?

It would be slow

respectful

tender

building

kind

lovemaking

So, controlled

No, no. Deeply monitored.

By both parties

Of course

In sync

So tender kind slow respectful aware

Aware?

Yes, both parties building in sync

Deeply aware?

Yes. Spiritual.

Wait, spiritual?

Yes.

Okay, I’m down with that.

We don’t use the word down.

(Sigh) I am so up for that. For reals.

.

We were 16

pattering across the long high bridge

over the Aare River

in Berne

It rained and I dared

to offer Diane from Illinois half of my umbrella

Bumbershoot we called it

don’t know why

we’d heard that somewhere

and it was a romantic notion and

a funny word for two teenagers

estimating the distance

between them

the distance even greater all these years hence

I no longer use the word bumbershoot

ATTENTION POETS:

Pursuant to the use of metaphors

Cease and desist immediately

All poets found to be in violation

will be subject to unicornucopia

We’re serious about this so

you need to just stop it

or the consequences will be swift

as stated above