grace

we perform

this ritual grace

words spoken to themselves

candle's fire illuminates

mismatched silver and faded earthenware

a vase of wildflowers mocks the infectious sentiment of kin

arriving uninvited, a familiar glutton

devours all but the hunger of a lover alone

faith does not accommodate

allergies and broken hearts

a fistful of ragweed

an angry bouquet

cursing loves discrepancy

child

the child kept me awake

last night, begging for stories

and drinks of water

i was gentle, spoke

soft words

loved

her to sleep

in the morning

she was dead

i lay her angel

body in the blue-box

then wrote this

for james

daunting and cool

your eyes see music

and earthborn shadows

you are your

guitar

rapture, love and

measured anger

alive in song child

you are the reason

life is poetry

dinner conversation

Dinner was grotesque and mired in animal grease.

Culinary transgressions aside, the conversation

was pleasant, the brandy sweet.

You told me I reminded you of your mother.

She used to say 'charity begins at home.'

I replied (a little drunk) 'peace begets peace begets love'

and we laughed.

There is nowhere a surrogate can hide

or blend with others in the room.

This evening abounds with familiar terrain.

I can see my house from here. She is standing

with her back to the wall and is scowling

not at me, but at the brandy.


She prefers beer.