tattooed with gandhi
no skin will lie,
bare butt piss
constant lemon stream,
she watched his fuzzy back
dark mat of curls
lined by her nails,
depressed bed
mattress coils gone
before their advertised expiry,
a week of this
longing and urgent,
walking back
she waited
a sharp twinge in her stomach,
the next day
could not come quick enough
when a thought becomes a fraction
divided into memory
and everyday fatigue
it settles not happy to remain
will divide again
into dreams and realization
long cerebral passageways
cluttered with electric snapshots
of a life lived long,
thinking was a process
started in the morning
after rinsing mouth and bathing
combed and prepared
opened the mind
some fractions found division harder
and became elongated spools
of tension and agitation
hands that tremor
ever so slightly
as sipping a glass of lemonade,
beneath this mass of
seething activity
normal had almost resumed
old fractions worked
looking at a photo album
your son found in the loft
other debris of a life in one place
gathered and divided
and will be when your
gone
six drawers of the universe
filled with life he could not leave behind
twenty year commitment gone,
thick neck and morning lit face
parked up station wagon
silver leaf scars rusting
doors with rattling windows,
behind a marriage gone like perspiration,
a third from the sun creature
pushed into the office
low humbled
shoulders shrugged into body,
grasped that file cabinet
dragged it to the door lifting carpet tiles,
tailgate flipped open,
company property someone shouted
another mentioned 911,
all other lives abandoned
this was all he had,
one last look
eyes like roses on granite,
pulled away
smearing rubber traces,
freeway surrounded by suburban houses
urban outcrops to his canyon
that became a void,
cassette music kept the corpses away
those corpses of the past
that seem to claw and linger,
a siren
was it for him,
tailgate flipped lock busted
as file cabinet slid progressively out,
braking hard
it dropped on blacktop
engine stalled
a dead bronze beetle
car horns swarmed about,
grunting stood upright that grey oblong
last piece of life
scuffed and scraped,
small key on his chain unlocked top drawer
took out a warm shaken bottle of whiskey
and the gun he kept here since his wife
became afraid,
sucked in air
climbed on top and sat crosslegged,
heaven had shadows that would not conceal him
as he waited,
bullhorn call on gentle breeze
curved outline of the day a flat surface,
and a smile so human appeared
sleep had frozen her eyes,
pulling away a draft between them
limbs stretched unwound
gleaming wounds had healed,
away from window awake,
bathroom without light
under sink cupboard with bleach and mouthwash
a bottle of bourbon in reserve,
pushed door to a crack
sat on a closed toilet seat
without that gaping void beneath his backside
sipping from the bottle,
put a hand in his shorts
rolled his penis between thumb and forefinger
damp from her
and sniffed,
faint lights illuminated heart,
head twisted sideways located tissue
shame to dab away,
as if removing her fluid,
her scent it would all end,
four years together,
she had guided him through a dry silence
concentration and love filled
earth and sky
as a solitary he would be unable to dance
and lament in lengthy boredom,
instead he stopped
stood lifting seat
dropped tissue in
pissed a long stream on continuity,
bourbon safely away,
new swarms changed names of thoughts,
into the bedroom
sprawled uneven she lay
at the window clutched the moon
and drew it back in
to be with them
a smile softer than his lips normally allow,
then settled alongside her
dVersePoets
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