to them
the bombs drop like rain
a sequence so frequent it calls for refrain
the bombs drop like pain
felt in the heart of your mother who buries her brother
and in the bottom of her arteries
her baby siblings' blood recollects
and she collects memories she will never regret
swimming in the river and singing in the street
they both had led life straight and never strayed
from the will and testament of God
but that didn't stop the bombs
and that's no fault of His
cause these revolutions won't stop
like turning gears in a clock
one will turn the other
but all the noises made doesn't mean that they suffered
because they w
Cold war in my throat,
he's all apology and weak knees
I'm out of apathy
and he was always sleeping
while I lie wide awake
afraid of the next step
running out of toes and fingers
to count the mistakes
we were young and terrible
and terribly over our heads
we believed we were in love
but could never mean what we said
sometimes you've got to sink
to finally come back up
then your realize your heart
needs to capsize before
or you'll never grow up,
never really change
& the last words before
I went down
was his name.
"Do you miss me?" Small birds dot the telephone wires
like bruises, his hands are The Hard Way and the afternoon
sky trembled in my veins. Sometimes we'd drive to LAX like we
were going far away, we'd watch the woman wrap around a man
like vines, we'd watch a small man with his bottle of wine, and we'd
see families bundled in coats and racing home, and seeing that was
enough. We felt less alone. We'd sit in airport cafes and talk about the
old times, when we were smaller and had a lot less on our minds. When you
wanted to a King, dreamt of ruling the world- when all I could think of was love,
not money or pearls. Sometimes we sat the
I am
a telescope
flooding focused moonlight in
to mirrored labyrinths
casting light upon no thing;
the pristine laser with a sore lack
of hard drives
or etched glass;
&
i.
encrusted with salt
and hair stiff with
the sea, we searched
for endless horizons
but failed to find even ourselves.
night chanced upon us pressed
against opposite ends of the
deck, obstinately shivering
as if the damp was enough
of a substitute.
ii.
the sunset glows blue
up north, breaking into
a million pieces like snowflakes,
and if your silhouette spells
anything, it is that lines are not
forever, nor light, which soaks
into the edges of the earth.
we are sitting balanced against
stone oars in see-saw motion,
eyes clutching like shoulders against
arms, and hands folded against
our backs, balled into fists.
iii
you will always be wonderful
whether you sleep, or spend
dreamless nights twisting
into frenzied question marks
whether you awake, awash
with tears and fear
and wonder, for long moments
where and why you are
(i hope, for your sake
that from now on, your nights
are contained, safely
between parentheses)
i hope, for your sake
that from now on, your nights
are iambic, in rhyme
and definitively
endstopped.