Sever.

 

What did you think you’d do with the shoes,

Klaus,

When you felt the worn leather in your hands?

The masses of them in DC echo down the epochs,

But what of the moments

At night when the misery serenaded your sleep

And the dogs howled and the electricity buzzed through the fence?

Snapping into the emptiness on both sides.

The footprints of the death marches

Write prayers in the snow,

Punctuated with bodies

That never got to gain the weight back.

With every crack, blow; every

Fantastically nauseating

Contortion of humanity in your hands,

The utter dismemberment of dreams.

Weren’t you cold, Klaus?

Hideaway.

“Don’t you dare look out your window,
Darling,
Everything’s on fire.”
Pacing these floorboards
Might bring you straight to heaven,
Baby.
When the dawn splinters out in
Its discernment,
Only the
Translucent
Survive.
I need you here,
Child,
Under the celestial supervision of
The deciduous forest and GOD.
I will sing you lullabies of spring
As the dewdrops collect on our toes.
I will fight for your soul,
Wrap you in feathers and photosynthesis
I will give you a resounding paradise
If he lets me.

Hey, so today I was rifling though an old notebook and I found a poem that sparked my interest.

It’s dated 12/27/09.

I’m beginning

To doubt

My distorted reality

Tangibility

Is maddening

In its ambiguity

Disconnected

Spells where I have

Been pulled from

The socket

Of presence

The Backsides of Magnets.

Thirty-nine

Tattooed and bald

Wheeling trash cans

Passes sixteen-year-old Allisons

In school uniform and badly lit hallways

Life at their heels

Absolutely awkward with it.

I wonder if they wonder

About past futures

And hairnets

And the vehicles of life, living.

We severed somewhere in the last dimension.

Classes and subclasses.

Equal but separate. 

Social.

We threw ourselves around the room

Last Friday.

Pulsating and delirious with liberation.

Scattered,

We’re scrambling to find out who

Are the triangles, the circles, the

Hexagons.

Smiling as the snow melts into the

Sky,

Wishing for things we already had.

No survivors

In the mass takeover we plan

In doorways,

Like we had any semblance of a clue,

Dancing that subtle getaway dance and

Hugging

Like we could break.