Archive for May, 2009|Monthly archive page


Missing pieces scatter through air vents to make the puzzle an impossibility. Half of the face doesn’t show itself, and the other looks off into the distance. No complaints mouth one permanent faces. No false joy makes an attempt to distill hope. This is reality. Hope died away when the picture could not be completed. This is history.



The covert club has no money to fix the diving roof; we sit outside, secret handshakes ready, packed lunches at the side. This freedom has limits based on school nights and academic fights; a bad grade means no shown face. Report cards high-fived us like chainsaws; none of us passed that last math test. I’m real sorry.


Sudden evacuations leave ancestors dashing towards somewhere safe. The light sucks away with the unsure wind lusting to uproot all it touches. No precision presses art like crop circles as if Guy Fawkes decided to paint an altered sense of reality. Open the front door. If you see a tree behind it, we have moved to another address.


Incessant moans toss the orphan outdoors. His stomach churns inside out by a condominium sign down the road. Bare feet step the cobblestones at some odd hour in the morning. He circles a few streets then curls in his car. No noises invade his thoughts. He still doesn’t sleep. He needs to be held. He washes his hands.


Dreary days blend into starless nights. His timid legs don’t know whether to walk or to drop to sit where he stands. Any noise or passing car puts a jump in his feet. He isn’t used to the brightness and cannot embrace what he does not understand. The thumb begs to point out, but his unknown destination waits.


A hat in hand and eyes on eyes, their legs walked the stairs down to their home. The dress fluttered its lace in every direction with the struggle of wind to prove existence. Unknown faces stand away in the corner and watch the movements for any oddities. He knows tonight will be his lucky day to destroy loneliness.


Some soldiers don’t return; no one knew their names nor their faces. No family waited and prayed for their return. No lovers held their hearts nor dog tags. In the midst of battle, they gave their lives in the name of freedom without shouting their own name. Not for glory nor honor, they did it for the Americans.


The crumbling banks forgot where they kept their money; last time they checked, it had disappeared through the hole in the ground leading to a river. The thief must have held his breath for over ten minutes and silenced his splashes. Before making it to the end, he dropped dead with a heart attack. But, the money vanished.


The breadcrumbs marked his trail from the kitchen to his bed, though no steps sounded when he moved his feet. Nobody saw his face, though they knew he stirred in silence. His imaginary needs went unmet. Four in an hour wasn’t enough. Caffeine, somehow, didn’t make a difference in his blood. Still, he stared, waiting, from his room.


Black faith doesn’t worry; it knows life shall disappoint yet again. But, this path shows no stars sans the two green eyes, posed in the mirror. Look up. Some light will break through the sky;
taste its breath. Hear the hum of Venus or the song of the moon. They sing just for you. Tilt your head back.