Tuesday, November 27, 2007

Wild Things

They marched through the city,
Singing songs of lament while
Breaking everything they could
With their hydraulic hands.

We stood on top of the barricade
Watching them approach. A sea of
Torches lit the night, so many faces
Gaping wide.

They howled like their lungs
Had taken this all personally,
And wanted to attack on their own
Two feet.

They washed up below us, breaking
Against the boulders, the riot gear,
And when I gave the signal
The wild things caught fire.

We watched them dance, more beautiful
Then they could have ever known.
We watched their mothers fill the streets,
Beating their breasts.

At dawn, the street sweepers whirred
And all the trash men lined up,
Eye bright with the promise of overtime,
Their arms filled with silent refuse.

Thursday, November 01, 2007

Halloween Poem

They came up out of the swamp with
Moss dripping from their shoulders,
Eyes gone and abandoned to time.
They staggered down our street,
To our house, and knocked on
Our door.

I asked them to please come in.
They sat down on the couch and
Slid out what was left of their legs.
I made tea, hot and black, and we all
Sat together drinking in silence,
Remembering the old days
Like they were somehow better,
Instead of merely different.

We sat for so long all the tea
Evaporated from our pores and soon
No one could remember
How we'd gotten there,
How all of this got started.