More Mystery Than Magic

 very cold. My small
and spastic last
kiss was like making
a noise to make sure
I was there.

Your quiet
mouth was only
space -- a kiss
reversed and kept
inside to bite.
-Graham Foust

Am I stranger, or they?

These retail nomads,

Fine silk foraging

In mall microcosms.

Building a Mecca

From hand sanitizer

and the kiosk glow

Am I just one among them,

My ancient wandering

Another bustling particle?

Stairs spiral into elevators

A woman carries her dog,

And leashes her little girl

Santa sings in November

no errand errant of purpose

we all shop in our own ways

some for pieces of red meat

others for something to blame

Future Memories

 What’s left of my battles and my turmoil

is in my seaside cabin: this roiling air.

And yet it’s what’s outside that makes me shiver.

Not the ocean coldness — something heavier.

-Kutik

                                           

 Social Nights

Fading, gradient midnight.

Upside-down heartache.

Head full of city snakes.

Scraping at the sky,

The night creeping by…

Stop/spit/gag.

Rubbish rhyme, clumsy language. Static party sounds, the brain falls into disuse. Patterns start to form when all you want is chaos. The universe is always disrupting, taking pot shots at expectation.

Falling through last night into this morning. Clinging to a migraine and muddied memories; Someone else kissing in the rain. Living in the space between drinks. Watching a million miniature plays unfold.

But then you came in and took the room away from us. Beautiful blackhole, swallowing matter in a storm of lingering gazes. Talking about distance and distain before disappearing. You moved among the animals and I was wet dust, pinned to the floorboards.

These ancient veins, this broken bit. This night needed you before it quit.