A Mere Boy

If it were not for reflections,
I would never know my looks,
for looking out my eyes
I never see my face.
Even looking down I only
know my arms, chest and shoes
and the front of my legs.
I am very fast and can run,
like a ghost, even my mom
cannot catch me if I choose
to run.

I can climb this wire fence
and I will when they
are not looking. I will
climb and I will run
very fast like a ghost.
They will not catch me
again.

Seventeen Sylables

I guess, you would have been born into this mess anyway. I am here.

Sweep For Me

I need you to sweep, darling

under the edges and

behind the fridge,

at the top of the stairs,

seeking out bevels

and crannies and nooks.

Find the dust hidden

only you can remove.

Gather it into a pile.

Then the boot droppings

and around the cat litter

(that damned dirty cat).

Under the counter,

just by the sink

where she chops veggies

they like to eat.

broccoli, lettuce cucumber.

Sweep it up and

use me baby, use me

like you want me

for I live to be

held on the floor,

for your bristles to 

touch me there, right there.

Human

What makes a human?
Have you considered
how complex a question
I have delivered?

It is a dilemma,
all your happenings,
choices and dramas,
ambiguous endings.

From decades ago,
unfolding now,.
like an embargo
against what you know.

Don't deny marvel,
when you observe
how a blind will
 has tested your nerve.

To stay true,
not give in,
become you
all over again.

You Know

You know how it feels,
that space below your neck
and between your shoulder blades,
the creeps and shivers,
when you're being yourself,
when you get excited
and show it out loud.
How it was received
before you could stop it,
before you could stuff
it back in,
so it wouldn't show
like it does now.

Devilry

She played a game with Quija board

thought some sad spirit might

Reach through and talk.

Reach through and talk.

Her hand was guided silently

to spell out letters of the name

Ellen in March

Ellen in March

A message too mysterious

she asked a little more

The month of my death.

The month of my death.

Her mommy stormed into the room

snatched the board away.

Where'd you get this?

Where'd you get this?

From my cousin Katie mom.

She said you not to tell.

She said you  would get mad.

She said you would get mad.

There's devilry in these here boards,

there's devilry in these.

Leave it alone.

Leave it alone.

But Ellen came into her dreams,

yes Ellen came to say,

I want to be you.

I want to be you.

Out of the Stone

The stone, with sharp crust
biting my hands.
Lifting it made me
think of you.

Gratitude
for taking me canoeing
on the Black River,
the day after dad's funeral.

I cut my knee
and blood spilled freely.
We kept paddling downstream,
had to walk back to the truck
(or you did).

I stayed and swam
under the bridge.
October warm days,
water out of the rock.