Status Updates From Zeit ist eine Mutter: Gedichte

But these are marigolds, they say. And these the horses. We have retouched them for your viewing pleasure. We have touched and retouched. Now, if you would come this way, they say, there is so much more to see.

I press PAUSE here but nothing stops because my hands are his hands.

…

When he gets there, he slips his feet through the Mazda's mangled rear window, fastens the seat belt, turns his head toward the shattered window and waits for the glass to reassemble, for the friends in the front seat to sing again, here at the end.

I’m on it
I’m on it all
it’s all
over now stay

a little longer I say but your voice
is already pieces
your grin peeling off
in dusted sheets & I saw
this coming:

…
each night
the same snowfields
crushed & littered across the room

Somehow, I got me for days. Got this late light
in the yard, leaving blood on the bone

-colored fence. This thrash of spring we drown in to stay awhile & mean it.

Like something prayed for
by a man with no mouth.

Favorite: Old Glory