unfinished family tree in loose ends
Father flares out in darkness. The past is a flat stretch of sand.
Grandmother is a pile of bones (no one wants). She waits to die.
Try to see clear, everything slips. A blank face. An empty hand.
Snake-warm breeze is dangerous when there's hurricane in demand.
Fire dances shadow over black ocean, flickers on a sigh--
Father flares out in darkness. The past is a flat stretch of sand.
Jeans gashed wide with bandana like a wound. Earring like a brand.
Peace. Love. Happy-ticky-tacky family establishment lie.
Try to see clear, everything slips. A blank face. An empty hand.
Imagine--this swamp, oozing like miscarriage--die for this land!
Fat chance. He'll find an out (chemistry: teaching himself to fly).
Father flares out. In darkness, the past is a flat stretch of sand.
His sister's world gone wrong like broken glass; she can understand
things untried that tear his guts like prophecy, scorch from his eye...
Try to see clear, everything melts. A blank face. An empty hand.
Hunts for pattern in those mosaics of shattered blues, unplanned
boy and his unfinished map of might-have-been--there is no why.
Father flares out of darkness. The past is a flat stretch of sand.
Try to see clear, nothing's defined. A blank face. An empty hand.
published in Windfall, Truman State University literary magazine (2002)