Tagged: mortality

we stumble across

we stumble across
our mortality, trip and
fall, pick ourselves back

up, only to stumble again –
if we could only remember
.
20230706:2121
y

lulu is pregnant –

lulu is pregnant –
we think any day now, she
will stop coming by
.
20230528:1813
y

you are

you are
gone, and we
are oceans
away, separated
by a global
pandemic, mandated
group quarantine, time,
electromagnetic
frequencies, and
chemical structure –
the x, y, and z of
everyday coordinates
dissolve into more,
even more
dimensions as
memories discharge
.
20210810:2125
y

perhaps we are merely

perhaps we are merely
one hundred thousand
chickens away from
combating poverty
and injustice
and instability
and racism
and disease
and hunger
and hate
and loss
and mortality –
the chicken
or the egg
.
20180411:2133
y

there’s another version

there’s another version
of us, a catch and
release, one in which
we are both
experts, armed
only with barbless
hooks. maybe we pose
for a photograph,
but we leave
no other
remnants –
no stress nor injuries –
with eighty-seven percent
chance of survival
.
20160106:0756
y

the years gather like

the years gather like
pleats, pinned into
place hastily by the
unsteady fingers of
memory, only to
reveal that we are
no closer to
immortality
than we imagined
we would be
.
20150218:0855
y

with glass between

with glass between
us and life no longer
a struggle
on the other side,
our hearts beat their
wings a little
louder, soaring
and tumbling
for an immortality
that could make
the difference
.
20120817:0820
y

when picking a spot

when picking a spot
to wait in line, watch
a play, or
spread a picnic,
mortality and eternity
do not bother to strike
up a conversation.
when it is time for
all three, however,
you can see them
coming up the hill
pointing, deliberating
.
20111204:1228
y

we are so far from those honey-

we are so far from those honey-
suckle-twisted
fences, looking in
on the cemetery of our
youth, without a trace
of fear
for our mortality, but
instead, for the boogie
man, for losing the way
home, for abandonment.

these days, we wear purpose-
pinned
fear, preparing
for that eclipsed
moment, when there is
no hope
of rescue,
and frailty
is a tarantula
of glances
.
20100523:2208
y