Snowman in the Sun
I.
We flood towards the sea
and if we are lucky enough
Return silent like a lost tide
Resembling dust on a mantle
Knowing at any given moment
Some inner memory can slay us.
The nails pulled from the wall
Take away something no longer deemed important.
The lightning behind streaked blinds
Breaks above the roof line.
Through the fireworks of eyes
I see a world in distorted views
Trees resemble cities
Mountains vast blocks of industry.
The buckled river bank recedes
and in this leftover night
all that floats breathless
feels raw.
II.
Outside of Harry’s
What if this love has no cure
What if the familiar is also true
Now that this place is oh so white
Can we reload and start over again
What are the chances this snow cannot melt
What if the details are rarely important
Can their smiles deny breaking glass
reflecting through magnolia trees.
What if these memories can reshape a heart
and a frozen carrot replace my broken up nose
Geese huddle in a valley further north
Forgotten berries cling to the vine.
What if this suitcase contained a song
And my gloves stay hidden in your car
The evening cascades into silence
And a sunset dazzles buttons for eyes.
What if stars look upon this place
Yet headless questions bicker and wait
A nest of ravens weaves through your hair
This borrowed torn scarf itches my chin.
What if details become less important
Perhaps as these fields become a playground
Or three Bloody Mary’s
Catch up with a streetcar.
Icy sweat is falling in slow motion
Heavy you say is a new type of word.
When need is translated into needing more
No text or message can trigger standing still.
What happens when footprints resemble ashes
And a distant song drifts into space
The moon is full and falling we melt
Knowing nothing can stop the scratching is back.
III.
Draw nearer into the whistling light
Not so shy anymore
Let’s singe well-worn feathered wings
Over marooned miles lost and gained.
Let us laugh and burn listening to the news
Battle on buckled rotten frames.
Let’s bury ourselves deeper in the abstract belief
These slipping moments can live past forever
if we squeeze the dream out of our veins
and lick open wounds clean to the bone.
IV.
Are you ready to wake up?
No not really.
Can i stay like this for a little eternity?
Not that my dreams amount to so much
Just a slash of red and poker dots
spotting the dreary ok back again.
I thought you were up for melting with the shadows
Slip and slide over the sidewalk in laced up boots?
I am.
Yet where?
Travel feels forever distorted
Whenever I try to retrace my steps.
Outside frozen news papers the streets.
Power lines sway with edible colors.
You shrink too much you continue
clutching herbal tea if it wasn’t for me
you would forget how often
you always forget to eat.
V.
Bombs are dropping there
Stomachs are crunching here
Can anyone tell me
Who really fucks for love.
Ever woken she said
After dreaming the night awake
Or slept fully clothed
Under the skins naked heart.
Last night two commercials collided
Soaked and stained and reel to real
You’re on my tongue she said again
In the mouths moonlit mind.
This cigarette is useless
This pill a fumble.
Outside it’s raining a three day hard on.
With outstretched hands a ferry passes.
This flower is for your hair I say.
This blood stained t-shirt you smile
(wiping my inner thigh)
Be thankful all mine.
