The Monster Was Dying

The monster was dying

to get out and roam

in the homeland

of its

affability, without

compromise. There

were no classes at the leafy

university nor books in the glassy

library

to prepare

the thing for

its longsuffering

stay in the subjectivity

of wish.

We learn

the civilization

of our vastness

in holocausts

of

remaining.

It’s Okay. You’ll

It’s okay. You’ll

be

here

tomorrow

and the next

day with your

health; and

if

not

you’ll

descend

the mountain

to the impossibly

lush

valley

where the

deer wait for

your

touch, and

the streams don’t

require

much

if

anything

but your

attention, at last.

Rest

under the

sun and forever,

because

you are meant.

Claire Recognized the White Pigeon

Claire recognized the white pigeon

outside the casement window,

looking in at the glittering

celebration of Saturday

night at Phi Delt. The party was

cresting midnight with the force

of beginning. Claire left

her frenzy of friends

on the pretense

of getting more beer

from the brothers at the

keg, and slipped

out

the door.

Either It’s Raining (After Truffaut)

Either it’s raining

or I’m

dreaming,

said the sand

no longer capable

of soil

or

so

it thought, in the humility

of resignation to

the strange

fate

of outlasting

every ambition.

As the heavenly

water

gathered

into the stone,

loosening the lessons

of

cold

subsistence,

thunder sang

in

praise

of exactly: a reason

for

being.

I Turn To The Total Stranger

I turn to the total stranger

behind me, a heavyset middle-aged

guy in a yellow and fuchsia

Hawaiian shirt, and say

the darndest thing

I’ve said

all

day: “peace

be with you.” He

says it too. I say it a few

more times to others, relaxing

into the idea, as it begins

to sound

true.

I’m Not Prosperous

I’m not prosperous,

he confesses

to the beloved

next.

In fact, I’m 

a failure in

the world

of $.

So when they make

a movie about

my life

eventually,

and

the

apartment

I purportedly

lived in is ample, at

least I won’t be

the only person

who 

knows

otherwise,

because you loved

me

here,

actually.

You Take the Feeling

You take the feeling

you had for

her,

and aim

it at some

abstraction, like the poor

or the oppressed

or the downtrodden

who

are

conveniently

elsewhere. And you

call yourself

disillusioned

and

cured. Because

you are, let’s

face it,

better

off

caring

for an abstraction

than an eventual

corpse,

you

tell

yourself,

an eventual

corpse.

Dinner

After the long prayer, during

which Jake had snickered

audibly several times

for no apparent

reason,

generating uncontrollable, sympathetic

snorts from his younger

brother Owen, their

father

rose

from the head

of the table, glaring. He grabbed

Owen, who was closer, by

the collar of his red and

teal striped shirt. Jake

rose

and ran.

In an Attempt

In an attempt

to pull

herself

together, Dido

went out to Molly’s

Irish Pub with a bunch

of her friends, who

were all about

consoling

her

for the loss

of the strange man.

“Let’s Drink!” sang

the Queen

of Carthage, all night

to herself, as

the emotion

swelled

and

sank, like the middle

of

nowhere.

The Devil’s Got

The Devil’s got

a lot

on

his

plate

these days. I went

to his Office

on consecutive

Tuesdays

for

a scheduled

appointment, and they

told me to wait

in the basement

where The Hunger

Games 2

was

playing

over and over. I watched

that movie till

I almost believed

again. Not

enough,

apparently, to

bargain

with.