The Phone’s Out of Service

3 Aug

Chasing rainbows
so long now I’m lost.
Someday everyone becomes
something you don’t want them
to be:
phone calls
emails
updates
letters on
headstones
ashes drifting
or
stories of lost winds.

I never thought some
day was
going to happen to you.

It’s not like I know what
to do, so…

I call you up and talk. I tell
you that I miss your
smile.

I’d like to think you smile
when I say that,
but I just
can’t tell anymore.

Your smile is a Yeti
lost in the legends of
your face the Himalayas.

Surely something must be wrong.
A smile should never be a secret,
but I thought everything was
fine. I did not see the
drowning shadows under
water.

It’s not like I know what
to do, so…

Trying to shake eleven
years- it really got me-
eleven years ago
possibilities with every
wave of my hand. Now I’m
not making anything new-
just breaking up old
things in my head- just
rearranging death.

In the fruit and vegetable
aisle there is a wish of
hope of laying with you
without a sound to the
peace of water not
raining all
day.

Andromeda- her name
tag- shined leading my
eyes to bare flesh
between breasts-
medallions
and
more
stars.

She let down her
hair and fumbled
with leather circles
that showed signs
of union in easy silence.

It’s not like I know what
to do, so…

An old friend
plays Watson
and I play Sherlock,
an ancient arrangement,
and we
explore a trail that
glows in the dark.

Of course I realize now
that just because I heard
the angels sing does not
mean that they in fact
actually sang.

Of course I realize now-
so very slowly- I am
Don Quixote late at night
as I tilt my lance at the
late night dial.

It’s not like I know what
to do, so…

I pick up the phone, not
sure if it is morning or
evening, I know it is not
right. These holy mountain
dreams will never leave me.

It’s not like I know what
to do, so…

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