1 New Poem

Away from It

I feel so separate now:
broken from the string slice
of digits, dashes, keystrokes
that paint patterns in looping
gas leak through cloud showers,
make hazes in the morning I
cover to keep safe from
coughing fits and pitching ash.

Once reflected, once across
in our wonderful shape:
I was wary, rolled up sleeves
and stain-flecked smile,
but deepened in heart the expected
feeling thought mutual of
possessive skin clinging to each other.

Still, and reckless, was the
wrecking night that purred up:
the moment when you fell
to earth like all firework sparks
must in time, having faded, been
trapped between concrete and
ether.

1 New Poem

Days of Brutalism

When lights come on,
jittering television snow in
BNI sign, it casts
through tree shadows
to the imposition of stone,
smooth-pouring concrete and
broken bone;

I listened to chanting
vibration of the city floors,
hand-scripts made blank
through passed sands
of age.

While line drying fell
through sun shade,
twisted in breeze,

There was a crackling
wish winter that made
me green again:

New against
plastic pitch of breathing

And matching wood plank stance.