I had that dream again
where I was running down the street
and I saw you
up above me, flying in circles.
You were laughing and smiling and waving
and you kept blowing kisses and
raining
bombs.

(originally published in deLuge: flash flood)

around a fire, my friends and i sit
the whiskey gone, several beers in
more alcohol than blood
these days,
these nights

our brains hiding in the soles of our feet
our hearts falling out of our mouths,
dangling from our parched tongues
(this drought seems endless,
the rain never falls)

but we still find the courage to smile, sometimes
we still summon a foolhardy strength to go on
to go on, regardless

and together and in turn
we dissect
we lay out and examine
the meager portions
life and love,
luck and chance
have doled out to us:

not even enough to feed a mouse,
but we would share them with each other
all the same

and the disappointment
the struggle
the absolute
ruin
is almost palpable
as we sit around the fire
watching the flickering light
illuminate
lifetimes of regret

i suppose
it is enough to be
alone
sometimes
as the anvil absorbs blow after blow
as rusty cans oxidize under a harsh sun
as the junkyards fill and the forests burn

as love walks away,
and does not look back

and as we drink to better moments,
moments that seemed so few,
we jokingly pry our eyes open wide
so as not to miss another

yes, it is true
what they say:
that only the lowest of the low
may minister to one another

and in the shrieking silence
one of my friends laughs
and says
love is like a
battleship:
obsolete,
fit only for tattoos

and i laugh
and i disagree
but i understand

and walking to the river, dragging my shadow
through all of that moonlight
i think of her
i think of her
i think of her

and i can’t help but laugh
as i feel the last of my grace
slipping away

each day I wake
I say today
today
today might be better
this could be
the day
when it all turns around

today could be the day
that that goodness
that that love
which has proved so elusive
stumbles into my life

today

it could happen
today

and I have followed this line
this hope
for years now

and it has worn so thin

it is
famished

still I say
today
it could be today

but I have had so many
days

I have grown thin
with the waiting
the longing
the desperate
patience

I have dug so many graves
in the wreckage of my days

I have watched
my diminishing hopes
dangle
like a spider
in the wind

precarious, but
somehow still
intact

and tonight
when I go to sleep
as I slip away
into empty dreams
I will say
tomorrow
maybe tomorrow
will be the day

maybe tomorrow

maybe