Arrogate

There are
two ways
to make
it work

swim
in gold
from LA
to Dubai

swim
in blood
in Seattle
in New York
again, in LA

either way
the end result
is the same
and whether
you get
a headstone
ain’t up
to you

* * *

The Emperor

The chair is not anything
the chair has never been—a bit
sprung, threadbare, thinner
than it was. Yet still it is where
he sits, against the back wall.
The books remain on the side
table, the mug of tea gone cold.
There is just a chin knuckled
into a fist, unfocused eyes.

The children, his and others’,
play outside. Worlds are
conquered, monsters slain,
every moment more dangerous
than the last. The cost of victory
measured in bruises, sprains,
the occasional broken bone.
It is a sacrifice judged, and never
found wanting.

* * *

Frost

The voice between the bodies
that plague me tonight pogos
between the oak trees that have
gathered to hear you sing

curly-headed deity in a snowstorm
a barrier against the world
in which some might wander,
become forever lost

the voice between the bodies
of the horses in the barn tonight
pierces my skin, grafts itself
to my back, weaves the warmth

lost to the blizzard points
of tainted words that may
or may not be truth, that may
or may not wander

my fingers numb, blue
wait for your tongue
that may warm them

* * *

Poisoned Sleep

This bed is hard, ridged,
but the sleeper does not move.
No shift for comfort here. People pass, look down.
Some stop and wait a while
to see if the sleeper will rise.

* * *

Too Tired to Think

The executive roses wilt in the heat
of a proposal from the Midwest Sales
Director. It’s time to break out the gin,
run the numbers, corn the Holsteins
to be made into hash at a time to be
named later. Meanwhile the feedback
rises, in a way too gradual to notice
on a day to day basis but every time
you check the thermometer it’s just
higher enough to make you pull
out the can, top off the vase. But no,
here’s this one obnoxious guy
from the tenth floor and bam,
all that work for nought.