In the afterglow

In the afterglow of spaces I’ve been
in remembrance and embrace—
where all the people who know me left
and no one knows where I’ve been,
each inclusionary bundle decays,
our factions harden into bitterness
and what we could have done

I’m glad you cared
He was a sculptor— a
three dimensional man
He’d normalize what isn’t normal,
confuse our senses, fool us
all in a nexus of acquiescence
“Too many painters,” she said,

“painting is so complicated, so difficult”
There were masters of line and touch,
masters of linearity
My landscapes were flooded in light—
Light is air, light is life
Sunlight from the window converged
into painted light, and you couldn’t tell

the difference unless you brutally, stupidly,
shattered the walls or moved the canvass
They wanted oblivion while curve
against curve ate away at the sorrow
of their molecular machinery, lively
complexity, like a failure to describe
and predict as we walked peacefully,

our agreements just expediency,
our tools and not our covenants
You ignorant fop—
We had some fun when we were
younger and now—I regret the
lost years, I resent our losses,
our insular duck and fade

From refuge to oppression
the deterministic underlying laws
still don’t let us see or predict
This is called “chaos”
Nature evolves and isn’t immutable
It stabs me in the heart if I
hear our show without you

His personality wasn’t the gist,
but it did assist his rise
There’s no getting around it
some small people will hurt us
if we let them—“Dad had
a tougher time spending $5
than he did in spending 500”

Nobody’s safe—
You can take leave of her,
spellbound forever—I see
you’re an angel in troubled demon
dark—I wake in the night and you’re
gone— some lies are effective
even when no one believes them

-February 9, 2019-