Erosion

The water spills and I cannot erode in its time.

Merely flesh, merely mind

The unsorted conundrum of self, heart, sanity, health

lie in quiet, white sheets on the floor,

barely giving a nod to the reckless nature that created them;

barely noticing.

Today I watch the water wear away the stone,

sensing a time beyond this

listening to the speech of erosion.

midnight morning

sharp pin of  wisdom

morning midnight

the empty lots beckon me into

corners

and alleyways

with their height

stab the veil of nighttime

lifting it only briefly

for those with eyes to see

The Road to the Clouds

Sometimes the road to the clouds
must first pass through hell
and the white wisps of heaven
be tinged with flame

in order that we recieve our sanctification
with a clean soul

Our feet touch the coals and our spirit leaps for the light of the stars
shining one million miles overhead

The Names of the Fallen

Write here the names of the fallen
Freeway wall
silent witness
grey disciple of endless transport

See our warriors' names here written
vanquish our memories
malt liquor
mile-per-hour highs
and poems written in a language
only we
can read

Growth in Dust of War

Winter is a war
frozen
consuming

We break from a false skin
and grow
new leaves
any-how

Spring is not our last chance

Our last battle
Our last song
Our last riddles
are only waiting for the winter to arrive