Pale Sun

Too Scared To Move

You remember the feel of the lash
well enough not to question
where Winter has gone.

He's off in Europe,
I understand,
probably after
Belgian beer and Russian vodka,
Ukrainian women,
and you're not dumb
enough to cheer
his departure,
he'd hear about it
sure,
but you are
almost nostalgic
for what he
put you through.

You just wait quietly now
for the sound of his heavy
footfalls on the porch
and the fury of his voice,
naming you.

Paper Thin Morning

Each of these days seem
somehow separated,
disconnected and unrelated
to each other.

Squeezed in between
waiting to happen, wanting to begin,
and the litter and spillage,
the tipped over paper cups
of an event I can't remember
or interpret.

You're some kind of ghost story,
your hollow head, your thready pulse,
your paper thin discipline

Not really floating
so much as falling
asleep
without
repose.

The Creeps

CPR

without music now
big with gasses the
sands of time pile
they said you didn't look well
as you sat there with
heart sounds
in your ears
you can't deny change or
stop the movement of things
 the man before a tank
is symbolic, yeah
but soft and brittle
the song you don't sing
won't be remembered
can't sustain anyone
the non-action of
a cheapskate
winter's going
through this self-doubt
thing like it's
forgotten it's might
I can't believe it's
learned restraint
is practicing mercy
doubt that very much
it's some kind of crisis
or indifference, a shirking of
it's duties, disillusionment
then it might
make
some sense.

Options

Hiya Sparky!

you are here without playmates
passing the time swapping your remaining hours
for meager paychecks
ticking off carefully
one bill after another
called in to you by telephone
paying, almost contentedly,
like a faithful slave

someone who apparently observed you
in the past says it is a shame
having watched your spark,
once so bright and hot,
flicker and snuff
the way it
has