January 2012
2 posts
standard dissolution
your head lay in my lap, we
were draped across the couch
a coupl’a hand-me-down throw blankets,
in the background your comforter
spun in the ticking dryer.
in us, handmade quilts
disguise our walls,
the ancient oriental rugs of
our thick hurt
the mounting aches, mounted
too long to let go
these museums of
our “Everyday Use”, yes
all those who everyday used...
How disposed Christmas trees remind me of my...
barely stepping off the porch
the neighbor shifts the massive pine
into the air
it lands—
neck nestled in the curb
the branches collapse in a wave
except one, bare and bent
and different
thrusting its bone into the cold
of the morning.