To look to the distance

As if you were

flying

and to plummet towards the ground
the effervescent dirt coming forward so fast
that I smiled
because they judged
from sullen corners of dark rooms
with no existence of a reason for them to judge

and,
To think for one minute
as if you weren’t

dying

to pick up a comb
from the dirty floor
and to mop a little,
not to clean, but to be entrapped
by the rhythmic movement
of the task.
Simple and pure

and;
When you arrive, empty plates in hands
Offering up only a cynical smile
and shrug as if to apologize because
not only did you bring nothing
you knew I knew you wouldn’t

and in the grand kitchen
with piles and piles of empty plates
a hundred glowing faces would emerge

within this grand palace
their voices would ring louder and louder
as they sang
heartily and with spirit
while the plates did wobble
and the plates did fall
and theysang and laughed even louder

don’t tell me you always believed
in this

even as the blue moon
laughs, sending splinters
of light into your limbs and flesh

you wink at the stones,
cheekily and without conviction
this,
is where we belong

to think I never was included
in any of the
blatant summer mornings
where bike rides and fake cars
meant more to us than the world
is saddening, to say the least

but then I started to see
the beauty
in my words
the way one on its’ own would become

powerful

orhowlinkedtogethertheylostmeaning

caught up in the blur
of busy nights
and broken cars
standing derelict on the highway
couples inside
standing silent
waiting for recognition
waiting for,

Help

And the men sitting inside the bars
Took swigs from cheap whiskey
singing lengthy western ballads
Under the light of the blue moon

As if to enter bars
to escape the time
that’s always following

but you were free
dancing and singing
in the open air

and when the sun dances
lightly upon the crisp
sidewalks in Paris
as the narrow alleys
nod towards us with nostalgia

upon looking up to the sky
I would shout I’m alive.
And you would fall, like a bag of soft feathers
into the grass
laying there as each intake of air
was combined with the happy sound
of gasping

and for our sons and daughters
we’ll leave letters in the fireplace
notifications of our love
and apologies for leaving

just so,

soon.

Our daughters would inhabit
that subtle glare of yours
given half in seriousness
wnd half in jest

Our sons would get
that other side of you
the one that never could sit right
and would compensate for it
with fiery bursts of wit

And mostly we were happy

If by some miracle
our old broken
cottage down by the
crashing by the reminders of the moon
would sometimes blow the single light globe
leaving us in darkness
and we would sit there and huddle
to the sound of the dark
and the purple sky
would rock us to sleep

To speak out loud
on wooden boxes
projecting voice and soul
onto the empty spaces between strangers
would frighten you
so you donned your usual
expression of eyes slightly shut
with a tiny space still blocking
the light from coming into your eyes

fully,
and without restriction

To fumble for keys
in a brown leather handbag
that was wrecked by the rain
and humbled by the moon

it’s not that glorious
and partially cliché
that after all the talk of moving on
you’re still in here with me

To grin coyly at
the moments passing by
to shake their hands
and congratulate them on the completion
of their roles

In the farmhouse
by the pale light of a lamp
you would see my conscience
flowing and without mercy
I would sit on the overpass
giving the finger to passing cars
spitting on their roofs
and generally misbehaving
you would emerge beside me,
pat me on the back
and ask if I was ok
or if my walls were falling down

You would pretend
to push me over
and tell the thoughts flowing into the night sky
to find someplace else to live

then we would return to our cabin,
happy,
to be somewhere the wind was only noise
and rain only existed through the sound of tiny water dancers
on our tin roof

Alas!
I cried,
I looked to the distance,
As if was

flying

then daftly I looked beyond
and fell in a field
rocking a system
that doesn’t generally move
unless provoked

Just like handing a cashier an empty check
you would run towards the boardwalk
towards the lights
and then to stop on the pier
singing through the air,
you would turn to me and smile,

“Its’ fine”
you’d say
“We’re fine”