Death of a Muse

how did we let you down, Dolores
you poured your heart out

song after song
did we consume too much

or all of you, so much
you had nothing left, but a broken spine

to carry you
from venue to venue

I never got to tell you
you already became an angel

the one whispering in my ear
when I’d hit bottom

your voice found my soul
your banshee wails

a lament for my pain
on your wings, I was lifted

back to life
the gift, now re-gifted

alone in a hotel room, gone
thank you, Dolores

for whispering, that I might hear
all those years ago

you told me
I had more living to do

Negative Space

In the space, you left behind

The cat wails

I putter

Trying to organize my heart

And your clutter

Marvel buttons in a pile to the left

Stones and fossils to the right

I open the drapes

You preferred drawn

Pull a rubberband around

The colored pencils

A stray sock

Down the laundry chute

In the space

You left behind

I build, with your things that remain

An outline of you

Unbecoming 

There is no time
to write
to feel
and say goodbye

There is no space
for love
for grief
or imagination let off its leash

Under layers
strata of stress and obligation
we are compressed into
depressed imposition

Evolution has been hacked
our physiology hijacked
as we bend
like the letter C
over glowing screens

Leaves me to wonder
will this second fire
be the end
of our species
or am I the less evolved
obsolete
sealing my fate
with such antiquated thinking

 

New Shoes

New shoes
Thrill me
Just as much
As when I went to Potters
With mom
And left 
In speedy red Zips
And a matching balloon 
(That would end up
On the ceiling of 5/3rd bank)
Loosely tethered 
To my wrist

I’m sure
If it were advisable 
I’d be able to run faster
In my new green Keens 
And leap up to pull
That balloon down
From the highest bank ceiling