decisive coalescence

coordinated happenings
unwrapping expectations.
the bleating of want,
and bleeding over dinner.
mouths do open
while hands will reach.
farther across a chasm
as panes of sand disperse.
purposed acquisition
and waterlogged inquiry.
be wary of whom you listen to,
but know who lies so near.

this violin sonata,
it pops through the speakers to deafen.

tributaries stretch
and lights grow large.
too bright for comfort,
these signals we can’t ignore.
I carry a fading flower,
one I met on the cold way home.
petals briefly raised
on an incandescent Friday.
and ordinarily, I’d roll my eyes
at yet another bad joke.
but atrophied rationalities
are stories cuttingly real.

the domestic disappointed

overexposed and burning.
at the cheekbones.
brow bones.
chicken bones.
elbows.

lint in milk
is the stuff
your cousin
so pretty, refined,
with her planner
so yellowed
in the urgencies
of a careerist
untouchable
and desired,
imagines, speaks,
lies about,
to raise their heads,
not wanting more.

intentionally worked.
at the shoulders.
folders.
smolders.
colder.

frayed bookbags
are the tears
your mother
too tired, resigned
to waiting at tables
so stained
in the throwaways
of old sangria
available
and cheap,
remarks, laments,
turns away,
to leave you looking,
hearing it all.

chastised and distrusted.
at the doorstep.
sordid.
distorted.
afforded.

you’ll never fold laundry
exactly how she’d like it.

but at least for once
you’ll meet those who won’t mind.

*Cat No. 36 of the 500 Cats Project