One day we’re told to look at the sun

through a hole in a cereal box All there is to be seen

is the rest of the world disappearing This

somehow shadows aliveness but almost

everyone who has ever lived is restlessly sleeping as dead

For who About what The end is near over

& over yet we insist on making dates to keep talking

Always about the last eclipse the next blood

flower buck worm strawberry ice wolf event

Then there’s a last constellation we might ever see

until there’s something else to look out for

Gone are the frightening & gorgeous conspirators

that I’m sure I will not see again

Traces of sweat & mystery streaks

some hells communion & of course

a few awkward goodbyes The mattress is

gone forever like so many of the bodies I’ve worshipped

Here we are left with impressions

& a recollection of my side of the story I cry

w/ one eye all the time but the right one staid defiant

What would you read to someone you

love if you knew that they were dying

If it’s over again can we share more than black sites &

drownings skin turned confetti blue turned coal

& innards swept down sewers w/ brooms

We give way beyond what we know So the gun

in my mouth made me a monster for a while

Coming back shoeless calloused me

everywhere but the bottoms of feet Someone

dressed like a traitor convinced me

there are loyalties that deserve to be broken Someone

w/ death to the klan on the door

let me know I already broke free

Hear them both They’re dead & it’s tricky

since the decomposed & me are close but here

I am w/ you The friend who is you

Impossible almost lover you The us

we chose as family you & others in the fullness of time

None of us breed but someone will give

birth behind bulletproof glass where life &

the divide begin This is a fabled event

packaged as betterment It will spawn someone

who pays to spray us

like invasive bugs in the street Cops

were children so we can look forward to

good regime/bad regime during future

questioning Thanks for the theater

but we’ve seen the play Civil discourse is broken

down in the destruction manual They can have all

the orchestras Classical music will never drown out the sins

What would you write to someone you

love if you thought you might be dying

Maybe once I was someone who I’d love to see

punched in the face But I am here & not yet dead so

a constellation of the imaginary is no imaginary

constellation There is no sky w/o a dream of sky You

who are family fuck a grid & thanks to you I see

brightness independent of state-sponsored power

We talk about who threw that brick through

the window & how it’s now part of a path in a garden

Broken glass is as old as glass but the sound is

more than fresh wounds There are fresh worlds still to be heard

Oh & you my friend I will fight anyone who says

you’re not pretty That is just ridiculous talk Distant

impractical you I believed we could be possible w/ translation

software & hearts-for-eyes emojis No dice

but not before I entertained

dressing in a tux as your husband Look

I never thought when you said no more haircuts

until wars were over that you’d never have

short hair again My beautiful barber

brushes my face I feel funny I

moan a weird prayer for peace I guess it could happen

lol after all we deserve a new start Soon we’ll be dead & brag

about riches We were here & looked right into the sun

poetry-magazineFrom the magazine:The Next Last One

From the magazine:
The Next Last One