
Overalls
blue faded things
blue hanger
closet pants
worn each July
since 1992
documenting size
squeeze factor
so far
all clear.

Before her funeral
Death
some ether concept
still absence
paralysis in lilies
now
I know the smell of dank breath
Death’s
accessible
to anyone.

Some days
so much incoming
hours pass
lazy paralysis
peep voice—-
research propels
kick pulses
voyeurism good
but sundown
blank
pages.

What will we do
When the old barn falls?
How will we remember
How it sheltered us all?
What sound will we hear
When the walls lay down?
What will we do
When the old barn’s gone?

Everybody talks
watch mouths
look into eyes
feel wind lift
hear birds sing
when world’s too loud
it’s alright
close up inside
stay still
quiet
Pain
holds steadfast
anchored to World
like a fungus—
Is it reproducing
do you think—
or just hovering
closer
to our mega view?

Pencil on paper. Images arise. Message received.