Working the Night Shift

When her night was winding down
Witnessed by thinning crowds and
Live band bows,
His night was starting up and revving
Engines and engineers of words,
Cunning men, craftsmen of cards
Playing loud, like knights of round.

The circle silver plated moon hung above them both as she Watched Rivers and he bet bigger.

Thousands of steps stood like giants between the two and coughing demons circled in the air duct ducts. They might have caused the goosebumps, but it was likely the memories.

She awoke and sipped her bitter tea
And he, separated with what felt like so much more than just those three,
Awoke just the same.

Once it was reversed.
The time shift variables suited better then, when
Transported airwaves and telepathic wires offered a hand, to be a friend. Her life was just beginning,
Right as his shift was scheduled to end

Ending

You built a bomb inside my chest.
I let you build it, piece by piece; I welcomed it.
My heart had never beat so strong, so fast.

I never dreamed that once it was complete
you'd look into my eyes

And detonate.

Great Human Disasters

The sadness starts to slip
And roll behind the backs of eyes
And black becomes the proper dress-
A harrowing disguise.

Cheer and joy are all around,
Everyone will raise their glass,
dark behind their glassy eyes
Darker there where others fast.

A sinking ship, the Hindenburg;
Claw away from wreckage, messes
Never should be boarded but when
Promised drink's careless caresses.

Before awake demons had been hunting dreams
They suffocate with one's own skin.
Looking to escape it all,
Frightened to escape in sin.


Foundations lacked, severely cracked
Walls stood not still but strangely strayed.
Too late construction lessons learned;
A sip denied is another brick laid.

Why is it that love affairs-
The ones history remembers -
Must always be worded as "torrid"?

The heat of passion is pronounced
In descriptions of what,
Exactly
It means to be loved.

But one who has felt the freely given fire
Knows the blue and bitter cold as well.
Missed before parting and never close enough,
You never already count yourself among the broken hearted, knowing distance better than your lover's name.

Too cruel the fates that separate;
Hardly allowed to even begin;
Curse unkind winds that fill the sails
Of lost love's bitter end.

My Midas

Someone gave you an eggshell once.
I watched you explore its gypsy surface,
and the puncture in its end.

In your hands it was precious
and lovely. I recognized that
touch. I knew it well.

I should have known that was the end.
Once touched, I could not heal you
of your great gift.

Gifts

I gave you back your checkbook,
your little league champions! t-shirt,
& your bottle of Knob Creek;
I'd given it to you after six months,
but we'd been drinking it together.
I made sure you took your sheet music
from my Jeep; you'll need it to sing this Sunday.

You promised you'd pay me back
for the plane ticket to visit me,
& return my old read books.

But those books will always have
your notes in their sad margins.
And I will always know your phone number .

I hope you change it soon.

Starving Seas

A blue-eyed captain stood
watch over his crew
scraping away carcasses of crusaders
whose names he never knew.

Storm clouds blew and bubbled
in the sky
just as darker clouds were cast
over his eyes.

With now blue-black stare
he watched his nine men
as with strong arms and bare backs
they cleaned up his sin.

He well knew his weapons, both
cannibals and cannonballs;
better known at nightfall
like Adam's fall.

The wind tore at his conscience
as his eyes turned full gray;
"Finish yer cleanin' and
dinner we'll make."