the yard
sale
i set up shop
the day the news
weakened me
at the knees
sun-sloppy:
it had rained for days
hedge clippers
cans of pineapple juice
gassed up lawnmower and
extra-large ghostlike trash bags
filled the morning
early lunch
below the pin oaks
filtered sun through
mazes of peanut butter and banana
i set sail:
in dandelion grass
tables and chairs
dirt imbedded
between the cracks of years
hutches of antiquity
with lights that no longer shine
cans of bud
tears and memories
rough seas
shook the afternoon
i came into
harbor
at sundown
crystallized
within my own defences
the notion
you never were coming back
i sold your
wicker chair
i'm sure you don't care
i couldn't look at it anymore
i couldn't… i couldn't
think of you sitting there
behind placid screens so sad
clean sun in your eyes
sunglasses:
she wore even in rain
the tranquil
is what you made me
the promises we broke
is what i can't
leap over
your voice is
that echo
i cannot find
i'm wasted and i'm blind
bit by bit
piece by piece
being erased from mankind
all is sold
or at least
tagged to go away
i don't want sympathy
i just want you back
on that wicker chair
with wisps of your curling hair
f
a
l
l
i
n
g
in love again
in the morning
i'll go get the signs
i never saw
light a match
and burn this whole
world we had down
then i'll ride straight on
out of town
watch the lighthouse
beam into
the darkness
bouncing into
the places we run from
