Rude Awakenings


Rude awakenings
come in threes
so why is it I
was left with
nothing in this world

Even the bird knows
nature lingers in ephemeral
winds, broken
like a piece of chocolate
into fourths, then halves,
further burrowed into halves,
stubbornly shearing specks
of halves and halves

And then, what’s next
I asked the announcer,
whom I still can’t see,
what follows when
the whole is stolen?
who can I complain to?

Life’s worst bureaucracy,
leaving me with
endless questions,  
dragging me in
line and in time,
living the worst tragedy,
my impounded love
lost to an extraordinary moment
I, puny, could not fight it


in loop

short story

Don’t go over there. There’s the edge, right underneath that bush. If you waver, you’re done for.

But still I crept, crying as they kept pushing and yelling. Someone tried to pull me away from her.

I am not crying as we hold hands and toss made up words in the air, every day.

I woke up and I thought I remembered being here, by the desolate plane, crowned by a single bush. Then he came and warned me to stay close or else I would fall. When I fall it doesn’t feel endless at all.

Still, I was thinking of the time we held each other’s hands.