carrot cake

 

I wish that I had
never
you don’t know one-
tenth of all
of this
 

what will it take for you to trust
what will it take for you to believe
 

remember when you knew
that fairies live in the mossy
crooks of trees
that lions just can’t wait
to be king
 

that’s what I mean
when
I tell you the
truth

that’s what I wish for
again
when
you blow out those
candles

 

 

 

PAD #5 (vegetable)

departure

by the time you read this, I will have rolled off the cliff and into the sea. when they speak of me, they will speak of a hill. they will speak of a river, thick and slow with its own gravity. they will not understand why the gentle, leveling slope was not enough. they won’t know that since the day I was born, I’ve never been able to capture my own moon.

 

a knock at the door —
these old bones that just won’t
go

 

 

 

PAD #4 (departure)

she sighs and says

 

I left my change
in the machine

 

she leaves the room
 

every one of us
makes a sound
resembling this
 

alternately we
consider the emptiness of our own
zippered pockets
 

not one of us with an extra dime to spare
 

being all possible
each day is simple
a lever
a pulley
an inclined plane
 

when she returns we have all reversed
direction

 

 

 

PAD #3 (machine)

secret

just a little
 

bag of ice
he
walked
into another one of
those things
he always
walks
into

just a little
 

disconnection
avoidance recognition
wait for the silence
to explode
a gunshot cracking
cold
air
he
listens

just a little
 

deer in the woods his
smile flashes he
grabs my hand wanting
I feel the secret
I wonder does
he know
every
cut
scars

just a little
 

 

 

PAD #2 (secret)