💾 Archived View for ztbd.flounder.online › poems.gmi captured on 2023-05-24 at 17:36:14. Gemini links have been rewritten to link to archived content
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the lights in my home
are bluetoothed to a phone
sometimes i move to turn them on
but minutes pass in darkness
and notifications keep me alone
as i do chores in bluish tones
from my sofa
the checklists fall into my bottomless pit
that’s not at all like the world we touch
more like the interior invisible thick
i switch my lights to red
and the effect to candle flicker
dimmed to thirty percent
the insides of my lids are fed
a prehistoric ambience
a horseshoe hangs over the front door
a traffic light over the restroom
a barrel with a checker board
sits in front of the fireplace
on mother’s day at cracker barrel
the parking lot is completely full
browsers crowd the old country store
and behold the forty dollar snow globe
our eyes scan the decor
the new menu features boozy drinks
third verse same as the first
chicken fried chicken
early online check-in
chicken fried chicken
it’s 11 am, the server has three stars
she asks about cream and sugar
as we play tabletop solitaire
I leave three pegs behind and i’m just plain dumb
hashbrown casserole for the breakfast side
home is where
the propane gas grill
still has the price tags on
string dangles from stainless steel
handles by a freshly cut lawn
roasted bell peppers flaking
on the cooking island station
chromium plated control knobs
porcelain enamel wire cooking grates
made to complement any outdoor space
the backyard, garden, or terrace
the balcony or the courtyard
--
pay what you can for a diy
electro show in a basement
the upside-down singer bit
down on the mic and offered
noise stabs from their abdomen
ear plugs absorbed some of it
what did pass through was too true
to be heard in quiet rooms
but struck a chord in mosh pits
the smoke machine shook and pushed
waves of silver tipped clouds at us
the bruise-kneed crowd wanted more
heavy chains to whip at feet
standing still along the wall
boozy lips and rose-kissed cheeks
want for water, thirst for sweat
--
i see. the ac
exhaust pushing the leaves
my broken toe walk tilting heavily
working down the shallow slope
like a slow drifting toward the deep
end of the pool past the last black stripes
undulating on the surface of the water
but still at the bottom, the lower the pressure
from here you can see the sun rise
now i’m on a pleasant streak
i may never go to sleep again
--
we were flies in a beehive
carried by transparent wings flickering
and unheard in the swarm’s buzz storm
looking for an exit to the building
we were drawn into the mystery
by its qualities of ambiguity
these leaves aren’t dead
they found the ground and leapt
around toward new homes
on fallen trees along the riverbed
those were the days
when we cared less
about lost sleep because
our dreams were frequent and vivid
and the wakeful life loved and lived in
--
my limo arrives with blown out back windows
covered by plastic and spattered by rain
driven by a man in a santa hat
whose beard is black and patchy with gray
when the wheels stop spinning I step right in
to a coniferous interior with Christmas tree scent
where thick vines grow in place of seat belts
and soft pine needles thread lines of indigo
his grin is crooked, his sunglasses tinted
the dusty dashboard is scorched and bent in
a disco ball jumps when the light turns green
and the bumper sticker on the crumpled trunk reads
may we meet again?
--
at the speed we’re going
it’s hard to believe
an hour has passed
long telephone poles
move along our windows
keeping unreliable time
i want to be full of wisdom
like eight toddlers in a line
holding the rope
on a sidewalk stroll
who don’t care where they’re going
and the teacher who pulls
--
we’re both on the fish oil
mine fills a soft pill
yours pumps in uneven lumps
from the slippery bottle
I keep in the fridge
by the milk and the eggs
knowing our moment will arrive
and it can never be too late
in support of my mental wellbeing
whatever that means
and to help your muscles weaken
at a less rapid rate
we swallow fish oil
deep sleep under my feet
i’m wide awake, listening
to the dream of frisbee in the teeth
running back toward me
