+++++
glibs
dibs
hips
kids
lips
rings of water
things
I can't unload this catastrophe
sorry it springs a lake
my vestibule is only for
cosmetic seething torturers
burying blue grass under
the apartment stairs
can't bear the weight of the wave
coming in through the door
can't hold a wall strong enough
to prevent this reckoning
++++++
real trouble is in the way of love
we try to comfort one another
even when our own pain
makes it hard to leave bed in the morning
if we leave the comforts of our own space
and extend to reassure others
we are learning something
of our animal selves
we are prides and packs
if I leave a scene
to bend a knee
to be a tree
I can come back stronger
more infused with the ritual of solitude
to carry through to you
I want to be of service
but I don't want to obfuscate
and sometimes my clerical vocabulary is torn
