Fly Casting

the current seam

words that lure  

the strongest swimmer 
couldn't fight it

a perfected delivery 
nets so many 

of all those 
caught and released

I recognize the cast, still

For Now

she saves 

words 

her weakness

for impermanence

tenuous 

fragile as 

morning webs 

Rope

some 

days

throat 

constricts 

tied to 

the vile 

burden 

of cell 

memory 

masses 

circle jerk 

to a fallacy 

a spiritual 

non-crisis 

her life - 

irrelevant

the few 

empathize

their 

compassion 

eats rope 

like fire 

Paying Attention

My mother asks questions 

she doesn't want answers for 

are you still writing 

what are they doing 

when did that happen 

I finally learned, having spent
a lifetime listening to them

it's not recent behavior 

Her questions a prompt 

for me to ask about her 

Her short, sad answers 

laden with the pull of 

a boat, untethered

rope wrapped 

around my ankles, 

pulling me from shore 

I've learned to stand 

higher up the shore, 

away from the 

last tide's debris 

strewn in the 

damp sand 

between us

Lay Some Sugar On Me

Serve up some flattery

just a pinch will do

words delectable morsels

one more never enough

receptors lie in wait

their long fingers reaching

jonesing for syllables

manna for the love-starved

our ritual dance 

sugarcoated

a quick hit of deliverance

dissolves too quickly 

an insecure hunger

ever insatiable need

lay some sugar on me

I need another fix

You Forgot to Say Goodbye

Found Poem from “Wishing (If I Had a Photograph of You)" by Flock of Seagulls

(For Vernon, RIP 11.11.83)

on Fridays we cut through the afternoon 
like a beam shot from your ray-gun scooter
brighter than the Kansas summer sky
dry, dusty gray as old paper
stuck to the drawer back  

you'd twist to shout
I'd laugh, lean into you 
swerving for the third time 
buzzed on near-beers

headed towards big evenings
of cheap pitchers, running 
up stairs, over others to 
the dance floor or next town 
six miles up the two-lane 

you never didn't make me laugh; 
a quirky face half-smiling, 
my sides ached from
your rapid-fire wit

you, the misfit among boys 
in tooled cowboy leather belts
and a one-syllable way of talking 

humorless and hopeless,
they never didn't make me yawn;
you grew up there, but didn't belong 
I grew up everywhere and didn't either 

yours was the hand 
I reached for - in the bar, 
on the street, down the hall 

If you'd reached for me 
before you left, I'd have
tried to make you safe 

the way I felt behind you, 
racing through our galaxy 

If I had a photograph of you
It's something to remind me
I wouldn't spend my life just wishing

Time (in the style of e.e.cummings)

Another poetry prompt from my group. I love e.e.cummings.

in the hours 

(around 1)

between plenty 

& time's up! 

if I do 

no thing

am i 

waste 

(full)?!

times' some 

kinda thing

4 certain 

passin' 

bye 

unease 

gets comfort, 

able

cross-legged 

my gut 

chews

that

A Poem from Page 99

This is a poem from page 99 of a book of my choice, third paragraph, made up of the words I decided to keep, then rearranged into a poem. Poetry prompt exercises are often strangely enlightening. 

recall a slam

to the chest

an immediate hook 

all their coffee 

mornings distant 

belong to another 

he didn’t know 

had no idea

safely up there 

on his stroll

their invisible
wire just a story

a projection

she’s fallen 

like a memory

if she was 

there at all

did (s)he 

make it all up

fate 

always 

a maybe 

Swim Away

beliefs fail 

in shallow 

waters

a lifetime's 

swim 

upstream 

put to end

the passivity 

of false 

accusations 

worn, I

exit at the  

confluence

to no one's 

notice 

promised 

waters 

non-existent

reborn 

an estuary 

away 

Predators

from the dark yard

our dog barked
with deep warning

an early spring evening
the forest behind us
less sparse with
every sunlit day

we watched as he ran the rear fence
left to right, back again
his instinctual memory
entire being responding
to their unwelcome presence

the coyote's three-pronged
threat grew less cautious
I heard confidence in
the faint rustling of strategy

their reliance on other
adapting to overtake
shared goal to survive 

awe, curiosity transitioned to fear
bravado would never be enough
to overcome these predators
impersonal in their purpose

we called to him, flooded the yard
with light and our noises
mindful of a force beyond ours

howling cries and yips pierced sleep
from woods beyond ours
their persistent pursuit audible 

the coyotes kin to this virus
just another impersonal predator
unwelcome genetic saboteur 

both strands parallel
the human code;
our strategies align 

our instinctual memory
to rely on, adapt
overtake, survive
is to move from
prey to predator 

again

The Hours

at 1:32 am what I've
not made room for
arrives like a rip tide

insistent, deeper
than the hours moving
as slowly as a world
I can't feel turn

things said and not heard
carry on conversations
I'm only here to witness

in the stillness
my heart grows irregular
beats in time with
an unresolved chaos

lost in the circular,
hopeless drag of analysis,
dawn creeps towards me

I drift off to dream
of letting go, of making room
for nothing to be done

Role with It

hero enables

histrionics 

jester juggles  
folks' lore 

the lost two 
turn their backs

cyclical origins 
of organic  
dysfunction

No Consent

As a preface, I was thinking about doing an art piece of some type with this poem and cutting it into little slips of paper with separate "years" that women could take with them for things they identify with, remember or suffer for. One day I might; for now, it's obscure here on my blog.

NO CONSENT

9

we rode bikes on trails
in the park near the pool
as if they were horses;
our wild freedom
interrupted by an unforgettable man 
"We used to ride here, too"
we paid polite attention

"Girls, watch for people, 
I have to do something" 

disappearing into bushes, 

he walked back onto the path
pale and pant-less,
as if they wanted to see it

10
the two-piece strap slipped
from her shoulder
her body's betrayal
made her regret wearing it

their half-closed eyes smirked
smiles mouthed 
"Hey girl, come over here"
the teeth flashed a warning

her feet backed out
to the safety of any distance
is a good distance

sand and mud slick
with the slime of decay

12
three stood in a triangle formation
blocked her with the confidence
of a well-studied play 
diagrammed x's and arrows

"How much do you charge?"
asked the blue-eyed-blond
future girls' nightmare

her threat to tell enough
to make them stop

she'd never been kissed

13
the nervous neighbor,
father of three,

sweat a line of lust
above a drooling smile
"You're getting so tan"

on the path from the pool
she evaded invisible hands

her father ignored the obvious

15
two months of first love
when her family
planned to move

he thought she
should touch him 
because of that

because she
was leaving

17
her round-shouldered
neighbor didn't date
some random weekend
she agreed to a movie

his braces gleamed in
the cave of his
mother's front seat
aggressive hands
revealed who he was

she regretted 

ever being nice

18
she parked haphazardly
in the dark field of cars
at someone's house party

she lost her keys

they'd only ever said 

hello in hallways 

he said he'd help 

her find them

Van Halen filled the air
and Jamie was crying 

when he pushed her
to the ground

one beer, anger, and adrenaline
enough to throw him from her

her crab walk backward
found keys, an ancient instinct
placed each between her fingers

surprised/hurt/incredulous
he said he'd always liked her

18
At the floor party
she followed his
quick wit, impressive
vocabulary

"Brains and Boobs!" 
he shouted, as if
she should be proud
of both equally

19
Some Saturday night,
in the dorm, she
declined an offer
to go to his room

in the hallway of people
he yelled her ass was 
the fattest he'd ever seen

20
It snowed,

they celebrated
with strangers

her friend left; 

he offered a ride 

In the morning 

she pretended
nothing happened

she didn't look back

21
It was Friday

they celebrated 

with strangers

her friend left; 

he offered a ride

He said he couldn't 

drive, could he stay? 

She offered a 
downstairs couch

Before the roofie
took her down 

she caught a glimpse

as he crept in

fingers to lips, 

his lime green 

striped tube socks

and little-boy white briefs 

glowed in the dark 

flashed a neon warning

from her locked bathroom 

the morning after, 

she told him to leave 

He called her office later 

surprised/hurt/incredulous

that she wouldn't see him

Forgetting was harder 

Four weeks later, 

she had to remember

forced into a choice

forced, again

23
She had a single room
at the company party

at 3 am, her door opened

the second key to her room 

a gift the sales manager 

offered his young client, 

dad to a newborn

he had nowhere to go

"We can just talk..." 

her gut translated;

took her and everything 

to the bathroom 

snores meant safety 

she fled to the 

empty hotel lobby 

She didn't 

make waves 

34
The technician came 

to fix the basement drain 

A congenial conversation

grew strange, she said

she'd wait upstairs and 

fled the basement 

Relieved when he finished, 

she signed the receipt

Hated being nice 

44
It was hard to forget; 

she worked on forgetting 

50
It took hard work to forget

57

Me, too

58  

I said no;

even when 

I didn't