lavender

I used to pick lavender from the garden

waiting until evening when the bees had gone away

for in the daytime all the sweet colorful things belonged to them

especially the lavender


“I love the smell of lavender”

he said

gathering a fistful to his nose

letting the scent smother his senses

he was a forgein man

friendly to all but only keeping friends with his own kind

allegedly

even in this foreign land

but he was a kind man who always kept wrinkles

gathered beside his eyes


“I buried a hatchet it’s coming up lavender”

she sang

the notes rang on the membrane of my mind

propelling me up over choppier waters

like a water skeeter

too light to sink


The lavender crept over the driveway

untamed

I admired its ability to escape

to creep away

but remain

gathered and strong


She sipped lavender up her straw

The tall buildings did not judge her but in their gargantuan silence

shielded her

people in the city are always watching each other

but not

with the judging eyes over white suburban picket fences

but with detatched interest

we have both ended up here

but we both wonder

how?


She sipped lavender up her straw

admiring how she had begun to creep away

from all that had scared her


compromise

i know you come from the world of softness and light

but

compromise

your desire to soften over all the things i despise

i just an excuse to rub me away

to erase the unacceptability of my existence

you come from to world of softness and light, see?

so to accept my existence

would be to break apart the fun house mirrors of your reality

because smoke and mirrors

tricks of lights

slight of hand

legerdemain

light hand

that’s all it is

so no

compromise is not an option

because compromise

would erase me

break

so let me break again and again on the rocks

so long i let other peoples’ words define me

tell me to be scared of opening

spread eagled

being flayed

being wrong

again and again

am i to learn right from wrong

from your twisted words when even they

fling me against the rocks

flay me

spread eagled

open me without consent

violated

i am ready

for opening

on my terms

for surrender to this ocean of experience

becasue that’s all we are

all we can do

is experience

so why do so

with anyone else’s words

let me break open again and again on the rocks

because I long to feel again

flayed

spread-eagled

open

on my own terms


snakke

a snake is very slowly squeezing its midsection around my neck

so slowly you almost notice nothing

but slowly and surely, you lose your breath, its pathway winking closed, constricting and the muscles of your neck crushed by the force give way to the crushing of your neck itself

You are afraid to acknowledge the pain for you fear it would consume you

and consume you it easily could

the antelounge

1/24/17

The table in the antelounge is always cluttered. Things just accumulate there: a prolific amount of origami flowers, a strange shape cut from solid steel that looks so important it hasn’t been moved in years, a tape measure that seems to belong to everyone.

People accumulate here too: people muttering over computers. TA’s waiting to be asked for help or hoping for a moment to breathe when it seems everyone’s code is throwing errors, picklocks asking to be handcuffed anywhere, boasting that they’ll get out in 10 minutes, fire spinners waiting until midnight to practice in the dark.

We passed through here when we were “going on an adventure” as you so wanly put it. When you told us to wear dark clothes and bring flashlights. We were looking for the one place on campus where only two people had been before, remember? We found the boiler room, left unlocked by accident where they kept the plans for the school, maps and proposals, things we probably weren’t supposed to see. Because we weren’t supposed to be there, that’s what Jamie, the surprised head of maintenance told us anyway.

You never found the secret location, roaming around with smart things to say as I followed and said nothing. I found it later in my own quiet way of overhearing, but I didn’t tell you. It had something to do with how I could never make an impression on you. But it’s okay because people accumulate here. All types. And none of them normal.