The venetian cuts the sad,
I knit with it.
There is an endgame between us.
I somersault,
you cartwheel.
We nijinsky through the afternoon,
me, the snake plant and the fish.
We are familiar here,
armored against the free fall,
your hair is in a cleanline room.
Conjure far away,
I am a sunflower gone.
I wish I were with you.
Who knew a bit
of god’s breath would find
soil in my soul
and working its umbilical magic
give more than it took.
Sails unfurl, flutter and fill
carve a figurehead
raise a mast
pray.
If I were a carpenter
I’d know the wood
you’d be ebony
we’d be so good.
Everything in the watch
distracted, I sleep
it does not.
Radiate jazz
now bebop
a pulse
it pulls me back.
It pushes change
soapbox screams
loss spits pain.
On my knees
I say
thank you jesus.
I was nothing
with you
I’d be something.
Reap what you sow
I didn’t plant
Yes, I leaned upon the plow
you say that’s enough.
I walked the field
without my shoes
yes it was
earth brown and warm
and the flowers
you and me hours,
but the watch is everything.
In the hollow between day and night
when puckered lips blow
like owls wing,
Azrael watches with me.
My finger on my lips
I blow a kiss.
An afterbirth of shavings
love soaked
rough hands and scars
cradle a thing
you carve without tools.
Hot breath born
and forearm polished
we are carpenters
mahogany we watch and wait.
Start with a handstand
then pirouette
do an eiffel
now a finger stand
hold until you break the record
simple as cake batter.
Don’t bust a digit
ruined my career
unsanctioned match
had the record
the wind came up.
don’t see lawn matches anymore
except among the rookies
trying to make a name.
Fried Chicken & Philosophy 