Galway 1

The sun rose gold over
The cemetery at the exit
Of the city, before the
Locals were awake.

My new dear friend
Sat, asleep on the bus
And my oldest friend
Waited at the other airport.

And the thought dawned on me
That I was leaving home to go home.

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December 1st

Against the long odds in the evening
A daydreamt nightmare anchors in my eyes
And it’s an aura drenched in crimson
And a hateful blessing in disguise.
Then the snakebite ruby smoke fades
To blue walls of institutional peace.
A year the lesson takes to soak the mind
And burrow in a hippocampal crease.
There, the red wine stained upholstery waits
Your ice blue eyes’ soap cleanser
Till one day only purple makes it through
My autobiographical censor.

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Beauty

Sometimes the most beautiful things
Are heartbreakingly so.
Our heroes grow up tormented
Their rise to triumph slow.
Sometimes they’re like
The flower in the concrete
A refreshing break through
The trials and mistreat.
Sometimes they’re like
The ancient castle’s ruined stone
A scar of someone’s passed defeat
Left for photographs to hone.
Sometimes still they are what we are
An insecure child of average upbringing
“Massive characters seared with scars”
Who decide to keep living.

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Witness

I am a sequestered witness
In the trial that is his life.
No doubt I play an important role.
I hold important information.
Yet, I sit in the hallway,
Not allowed to hear
What other witnesses have to say.
Not allowed the frustration
When the prosecutor berates him.
Not allowed the pride
When the defense lawyer
Sings his praises.
I can’t give a reassuring smirk
While judge and jury misinterpret.
Instead I just wait for my chance
To enter the courtroom,
To tell what I know,
To change the course of the trial.
Waiting is being stuck in purgatory
With imagination intensifying emotions.
When I am called to testify,
The jury will understand his innocence.
We will leave the courtroom together
And it will be up to him to explain
The course of his life-trial.

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Menu Options

You had to pick the most expensive
Meal on Chef Death’s menu.
The one that takes the longest to pay off.
Why couldn’t you have ordered
A well done burger or a slow cooked stew?
Something not too hard to pay for
But that takes a longer time to prepare.
Instead you ordered sushi- raw
Brought quickly but so costly.
I’d like to think I’m still
Walking around the city.
I’d like to think I’m not
At the restaurant yet.
But it’s the kind of the thing
You don’t realize until
You’re almost done eating.

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Broke

If money was air
you’d long ago
have suffocated.
Which is one
of the longest books
in Death’s library.
But instead you
breathe on,
unsure of what
you’ll read.

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The Habits of the Clouds

It’s steady, no back and forth.
No hiccups, false starts, or short stops.
Weather slow or fast, violent or calm,
It’s steady-the habits of the clouds.
Not afraid to be solitary, but not too meek
To combine and besiege the Earth,
Raining havoc on us all. These heaven
Holders reflect our history.

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