blake's opinions over his digestif (strega)
they were sitting around after dinner
his daughter told him that none of the girls
in her class liked her
she said they said
we don't want to be friends with you
like they had all conspired around it
it was the same thing
that happened to him back in 1997
he told his daughter to hang in there
it gets better
they don't know what they're talking about
"they don't know themselves."
"they are upset about their own failures!"
she shrugged her shoulders
she said okay dad
she was tough as nails
she had mettle, at seven
she could teach him a thing or two
he realized
in the men's room
i am looking down
there is fresh ice in the urinal
15 seconds elapse
i am staring into a mirror now
the sink is on
it is an abyss
this is it
the men's room door opens
it is time
we scream into a private stall
latch, hook
fumbling, bic fuse
glowing rock
red-eyed release
score junkies in hushed light
November 15, 2009
tonight my son is laying on my wife
in the living room
it's tender
he asks where do you go when you die
she says heaven
he says I'm going to hold your hand when you die mommy so we can go to the same place
you see, we are not lone pebbles
the tree
fighting inside
craziness
madness
murder
tits out
dick out
a storm
death threats
wine shrieks and
drywall holes
neighbors blinking their lights
like they'll call the cops
and after the fight
i step over the broken plates
and the busted-out fish tank
the one that was overturned
in a different fight last week
i step over the fish bodies
i go to the bottom of the stairs
my old lady is up there, ranting
packing, breaking, cursing, pitching a fit
yelling divorce at the
tops of her lungs
yelling lawyer this and that
yelling "you'll see"
bitching about affidavits
and pictures of bruising
broken phones, broken lives
all that bullshit
thank christ we don't have kids
thank christ we're getting divorced
i go over to the window at the
back of the kitchen
i raise the sash
and light up a square
i look up into the trees out back
and search the sky
for answers
but i don’t find any
instead i see a man
up in one of the white pines
naked under a moon beam
he sees me see him
and leaps down
and runs down the alley
so i go to the fridge
and grab a coors light
i take a long drag off it
then i go back to the window
and finish the beer
then i go back to the fridge
for another beer
then i go out to the garage
and retrieve the stepladder
i climb up and get his clothes
out of the tree
a tee shirt and tommy hilfiger jeans
no wallet/no id
just his clothes and his size
10 shoes on the ground
an old pair of k swisses
a little bit of trampled down grass
i pick up the artifacts and
i go back inside
scruffing along
the burnt vapors of domestic hell
clinging to the scattered ether
i can still hear her up there
thundering in her whisky tenor
the stomps and rumblings of
a broken woman
but cooling off, i know her
it's all my fault
i grab a fresh bottle of
screw-top white and two plastic cups
i ascend the stairs to the horns of hell
she's calmed down
i can tell she's ready to make up
she wants wine
i pour out two cups worth
we sit on the bed
she half-packed a bag
she gets up and throws it into a corner
we both gulp wine
it is thursday, 8:20
tomorrow i'll put the stranger's clothes
in our recycling bin
they'll help suppress the crash of bottles
on pick-up day
on fridays our recycling bin
releases a vineyard of empties
this is our life
i still can't spell massachusettes
walking through the wan light of
dawn field sun crack cloud streak,
mugged coffee,
fighting autumnal flashbangs tossed
by Nature (hell's pixies, dig)
imposing of long cello sobs into
mind matter (presence)
scents of life, soil sacks and such
uprooted moss glimmerings, illusory
flicker memories that scratch with each step
this is the field that once was
there are dead dirt piles living here
worm screams underfoot, tread heavy, muck, dying
six-feet downers
plowed, walked upon, earthed
you know me
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