Author: admin

I join my father in the dining room.
I look around at the other residents who
are bobbing their heads up and down up and down,
gently nickering into their Jell-O

They burned silently and quickly
at the base of my friends’ houses,
quietly licking at foundations.

I rise with the ghouls.
It is a time when The Dark is at her
Oldest and her shadows are at their youngest.

You don’t want this

This is the opposite of a love story
There will be no redemption here

Rampant ramblings
subtly stumble,
persistently pouring out
through lying lips.

perhaps it’s time to slam phones off hooks,
a ringer for a dime

The bamboo shouts in the windows
but does not move.
After days of rain the sky lifts.

Amblard eats the native food and interrogates the servants.
He collects portents from the editor of a Boston weekly.
When he consults a Cuban thespian with connections
to the cabinet, Amblard embellishes with an ampoule
of a grand duke’s cologne.

Here come our reasonable men, our politicians, our blindness.
Here comes the feeble diagnosis and in our feckless hesitation,
our hatred, our predators, our glee comes out to play.

Suddenly the door opens
Mom!
Her red coat smells like perfume and snow
She pins a Christmas corsage on my pajamas
I show her where we hung the blue ornament
Dec. 24th, the day Dad died
We do the best we can