Hush

In response to Kay Ryan’s ‘Theft’


Hush.

We knock
Our thoughts
Against the rocks
Of on-off
Again, on-off
Again shots
At getting caught

But how to unlock?
Do we want to get caught?
Is it that we’ve sought
Something forgotten?
Or is it more of a top
To what has been thought bottomless?

Shelter/The Doors

Shelter

Who will help when headstrong
Winds come whipping through
The prairie, but our prayers?
Who will build a shelter?
Who will tell you when it is time
To tunnel beneath the surface?
If you have pushed me
Like a thick mound of leaves
And topsoil
To the riverbed to be dragged
Away by the current
That is coiled, waiting
To suck me under
With a force that only echoes
The windswept fetches
Sent for you and yours

You have been warned








The Doors


There must be
Billions of us
It seems sitting here
Grinning ear to ear
Waiting just to hear
If the other lost his shit
We are waiting for it
Changing little things
Just before we go
Based solely on the faces
They are making as
They walk out of those doors
But some of us
Are safe
Some of us are
Never going to get a part
And they are
Well aware of that
And so
Are we
And so
Is he
But they still go
Into those doors
And belt out
As loud
As they can
The best they can muster
And we clap
All the louder
Because that’s the only
Place there is
To start.

By Any Means

Poetry is the sound
Of a drip faucet
Sink splash
Eliciting temple-beating annoyances
From your cloud-soft pillow
That might just
Piss you off
Might just make you
Need to piss
Instantly
But is not
By any means
Going away
Until you get up
And fix it.