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What if…

What if all of my bad choices
explode into dense night air
in a resonant plume of iridescent
blue light—enough to lighten
dark night—as transitory as a momentary
sun in brackish steep light, streaky
sweet light in a blue horizon?

That would be grand, wouldn’t it?
I can feel the tongue sizzle of cold
orange soda, from the vintage soda
machine in our apartment’s laundry room,
just 25¢, so cold on a hot spring baseball
day, as sweet sweat covers me, happily
played, because we played all day as children
will, our furious, relentless homerun days

If I see the ball, I can hit it
Coarsened in my own light cone
I can see just one piece of our past
and from this I’ll interpolate the whole
I know what kind of love you’re looking
for and when it’s yours you’ll treasure it
mostly, like an afterthought of what
was done in this time, in this place

Afterthoughts fleeting and ambiguous
They led the charge against us and 
we mowed them down—They were
downright arrogant, futile and mean—
Revenge, unless you’re mentally unhinged,
do the math for once and forget it,
it costs too much, you can’t have it,
it’s just some futile dream

Popular, vituperative fantasies of revenge
People live in their memories like 
herd animals as stupid as sheep
That old man said from behind his
imposing cherry wood desk—“I don’t
know if I’ll hire you but I sense that
I can trust you with thousands of
dollars—you’ll never steal from me”

How could I turn her down?
I won’t give up on you 
Who you are determines how you’ll fly
Gravity is a foundational force—We’ll
all fall and we’ll fall at the same time—
our depths felt in every crevice and detail
Not perfection but a standard
Perfection’s a dumb herd animal

That childlike, sweet green apple crunch
“You think I’m a woman and
you can mess with me because I’m
weak—Try it bitch
You’ll find I’m also a man
and I will fuck you up”
In a dream from far away my
brother gives me his shoes

We each have our own smell
The depth of his love was 
felt in every crevice and detail,
utterly subconscious and strong
Style expresses personality
Birds gliding in circles  
together is called “soaring”
Is devotion and love the same?

We were gliding together that day

-December 29, 2018-