A bottle of fireball lies empty
between tree roots.
One bottle and two caps —
where is your partner?
who left you with only things
to remember them by?
I’ll sit here a while too
empty between tree roots.
I want to be at peace with you alongside
rest under jubilant trees
blossoms drifting in the valley between our chests
i like that its called a witness mark
it makes it sound like the hammer remembers
every nail its hit
I think they have them too —
witness marks
is it odd
the last thing i have left from her
i haven’t hidden or given away
is something i wear loudly
on the fourth finger of my right hand?
they say that love will come in new costume
so how am i to recognize them when
they walk by me too fast, disguised?
and even then, why should i think that
a thousand twin suns a minute
rumble rumble
rise from a tunnel under the buildings
a flash of the sky
then under again
led by their pure white eyes
like ivy on a brick wall
holding my heart close to yours
if i should stay
ill pull us down, brick by brick, to ruin
but if i leave alone
because I don’t have time to sleep at home
yet, i learn more staying at home instead
and reading textbooks and
late, late, late
I wonder how the ants feel, about me steeling their road
and turning it into my chair on the edge of a lake
is this a highway robbery?
desk lamp,
do you judge me
glowing cyclops eye bent over
arcing, aching LED light
watching me as I squander
the hours away