1.
I dream
of a trapdoor
into a room that spins.
Distances:
words inch their way
into my head,
itching like bad ideas:
meters & acres
& points of no return.
How many feet
to the pavement?
How many hurts,
how many
broken bones?
2.
New Harmony, Indiana.
The serene boondocks.
A girl named Katie.
A tandem bike.
A minute bottle
of vodka jungle juice
smuggled
into the Barn Abbey.
Tornado sirens,
Midwestern snacks,
midnight escapes,
& the obscure ploy
to trespass
& skinny dip
in a pool.
Let’s do it!
(Her words or mine?)
A man lounged
on a mattress
behind a pickup truck
en route for Illinois,
& Katie & I
told each other a story
about a broken heart.
3.
On the balustrade
I wonder
if I’ll see
the tops of everything.
& whether I’ll look back
to see my old self
still
on the pavement.
My doppelganger:
a passing glimpse,
the recognition
coming
a few seconds later.
How many shadows
to become whole?
How many
cracked shadows
& shadowed cracks?
4.
We tripped
over broken pavements,
singing
to the moon.
I remember
the laughter
—not hers,
mine,
but born from hers—
laughter
that ran down my cheeks
in twittering tears.
We made up stories,
wanting our writing
to move
the day forward.
We added words,
made up words,
used other worlds’ words,
& watched newborn worlds
as they emerged.
5.
If my fragments reconcile,
what happens
when the whole
pulses
with severed screams?
I am neither
asleep nor awake,
but in some other realm,
purgatory.
Such a tulip-soft day.
A bird makes its call,
two quick dips
& then
mangled laughter.
Memories go to noise,
satirical
& uncontrollable.
6.
Secrets were whispered,
confessions brought forth,
as we blended
with shadows,
in a quest
to discover
the cathedral labyrinth
in dark
Indiana hours.
7.
Of course,
I can pretend
shadows are solid
& slick.
Who’ll go to the river
& return my ashes?
I let the night
slow down around me.
I let
the night slow down
around me.
8.
& just like that—
the sun came out
in Indiana.
Turned out
I’d been staring straight
into its face
for several lifetimes.
& peace settled again—again.
& peace settled again
again.
& peace settled
again.
Again. ***
(Cover art for this poem by Frank Morrison)
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