Lines upon my ceiling cause me great grief.
They are not parallel.
Their asymmetrical zig-zagging
Cover up cracks that look like
Two dimensional waves along a
Broken shoreline
Which leaves me guessing the next time
One of those waves will come
Crashing into my bedroom
As I stare up wondering the cause.
Some of the lines have even
Made their way down the wall,
Like an infection yet to be quelled,
Striking through the crown molding
And into the mauve like a sealion
At a pebbly beach in autumn.
So I close my eyes and focus on breath.
Tag: infection
Guiding Archangels (day 1003)
We each remember our stories just a little bit harder
– A little bit longer in tooth –
With vinegar to keep infection afar.
And in our judgement, our fantasy act
We search for crime, and it’s partner punishment
To soothe our broken bones that lay
About the floor in disarray.
But as lost is all that has begun
If for whatever reason we hold onto none
Then let our hearts beat madness
Pitter-pattering our footsteps forth
Into cold days of snowy forgiveness
That crawl away as we push back the tears
Singing sweet songs to our guiding Archangels
