Birthday wish

Birthday wish
I waltzed in a haze
through a birthday today
more in reflection than
celebration since life’s nearing
inflection, adding 
force in some direction,
not yet clear to see
whereupon the next year
will fall. And fall
is apt in its leaves that melt
colors like exotic orange flavors,
red for passion (oh, I certainly
hope passion) and light pink
for the flickering affection I think
we all generally think of when
a friend or maybe not
pulls out their spell book
and spellbound in expectation 
wishes us a magical year. 

Yet time steamrolls forward

Yet time steamrolls forward
Yet time steamrolls forward and really
doesn’t care in the slightest
how I like that.
It seems futile to 
pass by every “now”
agonizing for a future
in which I could just as well
pass by agonizing for another future
because time steamrolls forward and really
doesn’t care in the slightest
how I like that.
It seems the only point in time
at which I have certain control
and no uncertainty over my emotion is
the present.
Oh, what a gift, ha ha, is that the joke?
Yet though time steamrolls forward and really
doesn’t care in the slightest
how I like that,
I think I’m averse to the present like
the demons from my past.
I think, indeed, that’s the joke.

A sapiens with loose skin

A sapiens with loose skin
I read a history of the world
and I’m obliged to report that
it’s loosened my skin
from underlying muscle and bone.
I used to revel in the stretch,
love the predictable 
deformation each time
I’d incidentally waltz
through a moment and joy
would bend my joints with purpose.
This history incised somewhere,
snuck in and slid right underneath
and cut all the fibrous, connective cords.
A bridge with its supports blown.
Calm: seated, star-spangled skin flaps
and sways me sideways
just like my thoughts.
Routine: walking, reverberations thrum 
and remind me.
Energy: in a sprint, I risk deforming
my character, and I can’t be returned.
This is what it feels like
to be corporeal but find no meaning.
My sense of strict adhesion to
principles, predictabilities, assumptions
is no more. 
I think we tend to think
that the knowledge we seek will bring
pearl skin, gleaming and desirable
and certainly beautiful.
Maybe there’s some Truth to the idea
that with sagging-skin age
comes “wisdom.”

Collection; unrequited

In autoimmune denial
I think my immune cells
are silently marching
into a dark crystal ball
they want to tell my future
and to do that
they have to attack
the truth
Haikus from dark days
A cyanide bite
Now red tears pour from my side
I swallow the pill

Drunken wandering
Left, left right, thoughts stagger home
Eyes erupt tonight

I’m medium rare
Blood not boiling, but I’m cooked
Matter of time, now
A game of chance
The dice roll
Imagination slithers to
Snake eyes
The probability is small
But big enough to let hope hold on 
With one white-knuckled finger
It aches in every way
But it’s better
Than the frostbitten ice below
Frozen flakes of the cold future
Crystalized into something so sharp
It deflates a wildly thumping red heart
To even think about
Its tapered pointlessness
A damned river
Even when you
drop
to your knees and beg,
voice flaking with dry words and
sentences like sharp gravel
pulverized
by the punches you’ve rolled with,
the lacrimal pedestrian
pays you no attention
hands you nothing to drink.
Gray, canyon-cracked, dehydrated
nothing can grow
until you water your world.
Where is my mind?
Did my burning legs carry it far
when it felt so lost I had to run?
I’ve been searching
Shining spotlights into the
dark days
I hung up paper signs on every corner
“Lost Mind” they read
I might be wrong
Did I lose my mind?
Or does it not want to be found?
A letter to the wind
Fold the paper wings over, gingerly
But remember, even soft things can cut
Kiss the seams with care, and linger 
Be clever with how you fortify the front

Throw the paper plane, respectfully
Smile slowly as you turn your nose up

And don’t let thoughts of the wind…

Linger
To whom it may concern

1.
To whom it may concern:
I love you,
and I’ve wanted to 
tell you for some time, now.
The thought of you is something I hold
confidently, comfortingly in
the palm of my hand.
I cradle it, I move it around so
I sense its particular weight.
Your presence has a way of resting
against the inside of my back, like you’re
hugging my spine. 
It’s comfortable; I grow 
when I am support.
These days, it’s so reflexive to 
see you and think,
“Oh, if you only knew…”
It’s natural to feel that if you felt
this loved, you’d start loving me, too.
It’s a fantasy, like the ghost image sensed
between sparse and 
scratched pencil lines.
Nothing inside me seems to care
what the artist intends: 
even against my will,
I see what I will.

Love,
Avery


2.
To whom it may concern:
Since last we spoke, 
I’ve dated and become intimate
with the meaning of “unrequited”—
I showed her my hand,
then as dealer she dealt her cards.
Now I feel flushed
down the plumbing, lost 
in leaking pipes that taunt me,
those cardiac canals will haunt me.
But I’m not blinded, sadly.
My eyes still fill in
the ghost against the pencil lines, 
still tell the artist’s intent to
fuck off.
That’s the sad part:
I addressed this 
to whom it may concern.
But now I’ve found out 
the only one concerned is 
myself.

Love,
Avery


3.
To whom it may concern:
The metaphor of a healing wound
feels apt to describe the way
a scar has slowly formed.
There’s no distracting sting when
silly air floats by boldly and
whispers to my red flesh—
instead now, I just reflexively look down,
and with my eyes I bow low to
the off-color shape that 
outlines my mistakes.
Sometimes when I’m stretched a certain way
I feel not a pain sensation
but more the somber memory of
an infection that left a scar.
Know thine enemy; I’m trying…
You’re a foe that won with
your carefree and clueless sword
and like cinderella with a shoe, 
my scar always will fit your blade. 

Avery

Compostable hope

Compostable hope
You’ll sometimes see a treehouse dangling in the air,
But dangling feels, deeply as a swing at its inverted apex, like the wrong word.

Although the tightly packed, insightfully architected
Wooden planks with no cracks for water and no room to fall –

Slabs with such beautiful gradient shimmer that your breath runs away
And your eyes jog along their ringed, concentrically grained roads –

Craftsmanship worthy of megamansions poured into the construction
Of a temple to childhood, innocence, frolicking frivolity –

A skylight seamlessly blended with shingles, serendipitously
Forming a hole for twinkling starlight to tickle the floor –

Although the tightly packed, insightfully architected
Wooden planks with no cracks for lacrimal tears and no room to fall

Project out over the world below and cast shadows and capture light,
And compose a view torn with love and care from a fantasy.	

You know the trunk is firm, and planted, in both biological
And metaphysical senses of the word. Truly rooted.

–––––– – – – - - -

As it turns out, when the universe was nascent and had cosmic-scale axons
Still seeking their myelin caress,

It received universe-class training as a little-universally-big league pitcher.
The pitch of choice, as it were, was a curveball. Straight-up 12-6.

It’s hypnotic, watching the universe step onto the mound;
Dig its cleat into the well-trodden cleft between rubber and dirt;

Load up energy and tension in itself and its observers, the potential building.
Eyes flutter shut for a brief moment, an exhale imperceptible except by intuition.

The glove covers cosmic hand and fingers, 
obscuring a configuration you need Baseball Sign Language to read.

“It’s a fastball,” whispers intuition. 
You’ve seen this pitcher before. You’ve faced him.

You’ve spent so many hours of your waking life with eyes glued to reels,
Spinning spinning spinning, you know what comes next. Always.

Our biggest, unpalatably friendly giant curls up his left leg,
Briefly joins the flamingo species, striking the most remarkable balance.

Leg extends, gives surrounding bouncing O2 a razor-thin paper-cut.
The ball faces second base, and you’re squared up. Fast-twitch fibers at the ready.

And you start spinning. No, sorry, that’s the ball. The ball spins! Now your head spins.
Our universally revered little-universally-big league pitcher threw us a curveball. 

Your eyes pop. Straight. Out.
Because that tree trunk suddenly has an irreparable gash in its side.

The 12-6 sliced clean through. Your roots, your core, the pillars of your existence are shaken
Because your treehouse wobbles. It oscillates. 

No one has ever encouraged you before to think about the utter terror
Encoded right into a sine wave.

Nothing can reveal the elasticity of twine soul like a sine wave can,
When it decides to pluck your heart out with a twang,

And starts slinging it back and forth as it’s functionally meant to do.
Soul, like a soapy bubble, follows and threatens so probabilistically to burst.

Back, forth, back, forth, back back back forth forth forth back forth back
DON’T DON’T DON’T FALL. Please, please don’t fall.

With heart gone, blood a truant, there’s only one fluid left to lose.
Tears.

Please, please, please you beg. You’d speak the words if you could,
But there’s a waterfall flowing frontally down.

Irises color the down-destined river, their spectral rainbows
Reflecting along undulating elongating swirls.

Please, you cry. Please, don’t fall.
This treehouse of magnificence –

This castle of creation and palace of mundane paradise.
This house of the humans who give everyday existence its sense of home –

This Napoleonic defense, this mammoth moat, this untragic tower,
This seed germinated by sedition against our little-universally-big leaguer –

Against his Sadistic, Satanic, Slimy Stochasticity.
Yes, a truly UnRandom House –

Please, you cry. Please, don’t plunge.
This treehouse into which you’ve packed your most precious belonging:

Hope.
And it will fall.

- - - – – – ––––––

While detestable in certain high-schoolian contexts
(Not so unlike our now-infamous pitcher),

It’s tough to deny that biological systems possess
A certain conservational magic to them. Net nil.

This is true for biological systems of any scale.
Physical systems, actually, too.

Even pitchers, no matter which twisted way they choose to throw the ball,
Are bound by forces more terrifying than their fluttering butterfly parents

To conserve their energy. Let’s don our hardhats 
And climb the abstraction ladder we can’t help but lean against.

By some conservation law they teach you also in a high-schoolian context,
Momentum gets conserved. And so the ball flies.

Of import to this discussion is that this phenomena occurs
Irrespective of the pitch and behavioral manipulation. 

So here’s the derivation to fill your cheat-sheet,
Something you should know so well as to locate topographically in cerebral folds:

When curveball strikes,
And tear falls in a constructively destructive and beautiful waltz with your treehouse,

And wood and water hit ground,
Here’s the thing:

Something will grow.