soy and honey in the east valley 2017

he’s sitting there
slowed to stop
he was afraid of the break down
the deterioration
his pain had always been muscular
always in the tissue not the infrastructure
but still there deeper in the walls and joists
so he sat there staring off
staring off into the memory he could play
into the what if’s he could toss out in front of his face
like a western complete with covered wagons
and howling coyotes
the what if’s were always attached to what has been shown
so little to what he had seen
he wondered 
would she want the kisses at the thigh joints
and around navels and arms
the wagons circle endlessly while cells fall to the ground at his feet
the wagons carry armored stubbornness changing his mind
ripping his mind
sinking fire into tissue
air bender pulling water
new waves again
this may the beginning of sight
two suns of same name are not the same
but still two bearing same name
with different life
more intensity
higher to lower
greater than less than is the measure forever
as he ages
face drawn to failure
body carried to failure
all beliefs of a faraway past
beliefs of a challenged clueless youth
here in this rocking chair
him with knowledge of other sun
wagons and gun powder smell
her kisses typewriter keys
caught and gathered at the center
clustered and relentless
like a gelcap of hot coffee
the wagons run faster as he realizes this world is not long for her precious ice caps
for her sun dial escapings
his frantic manic rocking
slow moving to stop drawl from ancient dead yodeler
a will or a roy
a dean or ritchie
jim or jerry
living to remind us
that it all will fall apart
if we so believe
stretch forward now in his leanings
in his being
reaching for the button to her jeans
wanting to force light into smaller places
energy from nothing
manifesting this tomorrow
slung over from hardened fingertips
spinning now on lazy susan
sliding beside her
pressed now into pulp
squeezed into the impossible
so much the same
this blazing figment of what if
and what has never been
this new exercise in force and reluctance
fear and y3k psychics
prepared and moving
her face now firmly in his hands
he relaxes and settles
back and at ease
her weight against his thighs
made of miles spent wandering
miles running in circles after wagons
circles overlapping reason
and love
love and logic
logic falls like leaves around his now vibration less feet
the shelter built for them
now falling to seed
rising to blaze and breath of heaven
it is on the tip of her chin her leaves this revelation
this non ending continuance of what he has know to be true