For my last.

I would swim in a warm tropical ocean
while the dangerous fish were away.
My eyes open under water
the curious observing the curious.
The sun would warm my skin and I would
never become fatigued.
When the time came I would float on my back to shore
I would then devour a corned beef sandwich and potato chips.
All this after an exciting hot-air balloon ride
unaffected by vertigo. Where I even dangled my feet off the edge
in the late summer air.

The best summer, or when people stepped out onto the scene.

It was like I had been indoors too long
at the bottom of a well.
The Sun choked me, hit me in the chest
and on occasion, warmed me from the inside
Days of excruciating beauty were segmented with
random bouts of panic
Ending with a silent scream in the corner
of a shady room.
The leaves then, did start to fall.
And I witnessed the world from a balloon
sometimes from space
I told her I was flags blowing around in the wind
and that she was a flame thrower
She would burn me up, given half a chance.
I was sick, but not terminal
and I saw everything in color starting
then, in the summer.

Two months ago.

A phenomenon of lighted colors- green and gold
your face in the hallway, the surrounding atmosphere
was black, Darkened by you
so that your face would be the only sight.
It worked so well, I want to tell you.

cataract

grappling with the fog,
streching across the soil, dark and aromatic
hands grab various old roots, touching them for reference
and then passing them over-
they'll always be there, right?
knees slightly padded, ego scathed.
searching, selfish, and climbing with the only means
available, and that is sight.
so tall, and white, and clear.
get up and go, run for your life,
if you can.

100807

Tiny beast, hair on my arms, and on my clothes
I saw the ribs prominent under thin skin
rise so slowly up and then down,
once, twice, and never again.

I didn't exactly see you struggle to hang on
as it might have cost me extra to woolgather
about your miraculous second wind.
no, no. she's gone, and it just makes sense.

end of occasion

Pressed against the glass, facing the fall-
if it breaks I know about the automatic parachute...
whether or not I would want to use it is another matter.

Enduring the falling off and
meandering words of them, everyday for all time
I have been known to sneak out the back door.
Skulking around in black,
and with some understanding others,
I realize I have been passively missing
the world for days if not only hours.

this happened two weeks ago

zombie G

km at the music box

such a jerk.

Saw you in my mind on the airplane,
waiting, and whole.
All human behavior is a mystery
coping is a skill for this dealing with others.
Try so hard every day all day all night.
Try not to feel like she felt, like she behaved
while the universe laughs in my face.

so slow

The soil possessing the roots
no escape, symbiotic sucking
dark under canopy
nothing moves in as deep
as the big roots, the old roots.
It is strange and uneventful
no sound necessary, all introspection.
no frills no flummery.
The birds are unaware, flying away with out knowing why.

My little organelle, three feet wide, seam to seam,
weeping gore all over the swept white floor.
an unkempt little package, and a small, but not insignificant
exercise in patience.

hey ladies!

last week, and before

The test was on weather systems, satellites and whatnot.
Temporarily escaping from a low-grade, and persistent grey area
I emerge from once in a while to have some fun
-like visiting, touching, testing and pushing.

I love your "shaking a can of bees" analogy when it comes to those two being in the same room...tender situation
I just got in the car and chucked my big black case in the back and said...

p.s. I wear the green shirt every other day.
wasn't the kind of homecoming imagined
but no one wins all the time, or even some of the time.

so there was litter, and other cat associated detritus all around the bathroom floor
...it was really starting to gross me out. So needless to say, Sunday was a relief.

on the a.m.

My time is valuable, and I don't have much.
I need more RAM, and a bigger hard drive.
I envy your four in the morning, damn it.

Your Chicago

Under the sun everything was laid out, and as invisible as we were
my shoes still wore the light grey dust from the concrete.
clear and warm, the marathon was canceled due to death,
and I did not even know, as I was 65 or 70, or legless
running strong though the streets in my mind.

Pretending to be lost in the dark rows of corn
the spores blew off the husks and into our lungs as we
played who's the boss and chicken.
I can believe she might have punched the monster in the face
pushing the myth into the light with her fist,
all the while we refused the map to the center and out of the maze.
were you frightened and running a fever?

The plane ride home was the longest.
The clouds would not behave by
comforting the belly of the bird
where I sat with a restless mind, and a full bladder.