Author: G H

burn all the baby clothes /
bright enough for the ISS to blink /
like an early solstice /
pushing back against restful sleep /
the blinds lose their colour /
a yellowy bleach bloom outside /
trying to peer through the fabric /
children are so last season /
a tired shade of black /
dusted with a fine skin of dust /
there actually may not be a need for people /
crimping back the lids on their eyes everyday /
letting what was seen saw skate softly over the orb /
I would gladly suck the poison out /
leaving a tiny, clean sphere unblemished by our single pupil

a crater in the frozen food aisle /
leaves the shoppers whistling high /
mark downs have reached the lower mantle /
warping all the decimal points /
the smiley faces twist into /
a dark green smudge /

back into the typical atmosphere /
blood donors drag their arms /
through fresh concrete /
molding the future with three foot long fingerprints /
a species extinct before even being interviewed /

a son is in the garage building /
a monument to our successors /
using leftover paint to smear a tumble /
of all possible shades /
hedging his bets on the new dominants /
staring into our window /

love is eaten at a late lunch /
leaving no leftovers for Sunday’s long hours /
all the matter of the world /
should be so soft and so sweet /
folding our teeth back /
for a larger gape /
a welcome opening passed /
from neighbour to neighbour

another child squeezes its soft head into this building /
though leaves, flowers, trees, rapids, all is a building /
greater, grand opening every day /
and sales, sales, sales driven by the commission of exception /
on all items born yesterday, still conspiring /

why all this wordy faff just drives one crazy /
always something else to stir the inkwell /
not content to savour thread count or reflection in polished plates /

the construction crews work through the night /
constructing a launch pad in every quiet space /
tended meridians are perfect as are required green tracts /
stretching across the suburb’s pale arm /

get back to the orifice left behind before conception /
shared by the all not-I-yet /
consuming an airy, aired, airing meal /
grand enough for any galaxy still to be born /

time is leaving us /
not through the door as in the script /
but at dawn through every hinge in the house /
where the cracks are lubricated for noise not light /

grow more hands to climb the walls /
winning awards for just being there /
it’s never enough to divert traffic over the ledge /
but there must be a pageant /
to count more crowns even for the heads /
propping the door open for the next test blast

that last day was a doozy /
all the hornets converging, swerving down the street /
the chlorinated, ultra blue water /
elevating out of swimming pools /
the dogs searching for the darkest place they can find /
power lines glowing red to green to yellow /
enough heat to treble the hairs on your head /
whirlpools in every puddle dragging down any mis-step /
crow’s eating everyone’s lunch without argument /
a cloud for each person, more me than me /
even when the heated currents pulled them apart /
the fish tanning on the shore with a glassy-eyed smile /
all “I love you’s” stopped up behind the bile /
valentine’s day cards exploding in school yards /
memory poorly parked in the street and clipped by the stampede /
animals finally casual, enjoying the show /
and us, with keys still in the pocket, stroking the lock /
each leaning into the din for the warm shape of applause

a real myth is also a fraud /
lies but gives cause /
how great things were taken /
or disappear under a mountain /

hope as a caul /
becoming more transparent /
as years fold over /

terrible steps in snow /
relentlessly succeeding one another /
no returning marks /

white is the best end /
impossible to discern depth /
everything is conceivable in that blinding scene /

easy for us to walk on water in the winter /
return the dead for warmth /
humming around the lamp bulb before bed /

a cold crease in bed pulls us /
out of sleep just in time /

there’s that loosening where dream /
arches its back just above the surface /
what is and what isn’t gather /
for a familiar abomination /

relatives sporting redesigned bodies /
new species claiming coffee at the community gathering /
blackhole employment definitions /

we can’t run because we are everywhere

neither there, then or thus /
white holes with welcoming edges, crowded, us /
a square headed man /
swims along the sidewalk /
using shortening for water /
one long, greased rail throughout the city /
tying the neighbourhoods together /
like a knotted intestine /
backed up for generations /
escape to the backyard /
organs drying in the sun /
a hobby fit for an anniversary present /
not to stop up the eyes /
for the fallout will recognize the geraniums /
pausing on the last of the colour

counterfeit commercials /
blink in each house /
before the families arrive /

what is held could be more /
love is across another border /
the offers are real /
the purchases change colour the next day /
an old weathered road grey /
room temperature ground beef from christmas /
that thing in the corner /
no one talks about /

summer in every scene /
dripping its yellow /
on the tight smiling heads /
laughing and screaming at the same time /

and someday, space everywhere /
even this chair /
creaking in geological time /
heard if you pause for a few millennia /

time is a loop around our waists /
believing we can see it /
like a loose leash /
tugging its obedience forward /

that is why everyone should carry a knife /
for self-defense against the abstract /

what is new /
has been newer /
we can learn a little /
from Pound’s takeout menu /
time is so-so /
it’s the scaffolding outside the building /
that lasts /

pick a word, any word /
to end the species /
it won’t be a bomb /
it will be a phrase /
tearing off and folding up /
all the drywall /

it’s not a mistake /
it’s the truth being a little coy /
lifting up a penciled eyebrow /
making us feel /
like we’re part of the longer conversation /
for an instant

here you are /
same sun leaning over the horizon /
that stuck in the throat /
30 years ago /

same sun /
spying without cover /
whose timing is questionable /
striking the wet eye /
stunning the cadence of the oath /

same sun /
sleeping for another world /
maddening the children to run out at noon /
and embrace your blinding wares /

same sun /
swimming in the broken water /
of the river unnamed /

same sun /
god to infants /
yet uncommitted to speak /
our transparent patterns /

same sun /
quiet from this distance /
but bellowing in its own /
neighbourhood /

same sun /
opening my chest /
with just a hint /
of its brow /
pulling years forward /
with a simmering gravity

I’ve never tried counting /
and not stopping /
maybe today /
and not sleep until done /
catch the 113 along the way /
to 3 inches of curb /
tearing our communities apart /
with a right angle /
love is a want /
of not having to count /
pushing everyone else off /
the bridge /
before the stores open /
refuse cliches for /
the quickest exile /
the measure of success /
is space /
clear and unobstructed /
no generations to block the view /
where dull is a quality of light /
with its own edge /
to tip over /
the welcome home /
any room is a bedroom /
for the skilled few /
yelling over the river

soundless, only on paper /
this fist blossoms at night /
unfolding in deep sleep /
counting five of everything /

losing all men may help /
stop that scraping sound /
that is the world /

it’s easier to get lost everywhere /
than open a mouth to the draft /

death is the easy part /
tell the children before bed /
it’s an introduction to time /
and how many definitions there are /
like snow to the Inuit, only dirtier /

leave the lawns alone /
so the cracks can grow /
and all those original world /
whispers can return /
not the same always again /
for now corpses in photos only /

the moon refuses to return /
leaving a blanket over our heads /
accidents for every family outing /
traffic is the new weather /

come back pale mistress /
all the plates are broken and /
people have forgotten how to feed themselves /
divining their fortunes in roadside puddles /
waiting for the wiggle of tideless tadpoles /
to brush forward the future /
quick and contained as a drive-thru window