one more time.

I fought it for what seemed

like days on end

then the lights went out

and I could see her smile

in the dark, white teeth

in an invisible mouth

whispering fragile

sentences into the ears

of the walls this room

was built of; and they

went like this. 

Sleep sleep sleep all prophets

do, so that in their dreams they see

the future. Kiss me in the dawn at 

the end of the world because: in the

last days we all become who we

were really meant to be. The grass

will grow teeth and the concrete

will kiss our feet in welcome for

it is only when our blackened heels

touch that they feel at home.

The sunlight broke through

the windows with baseball bats

and brandished its own heat

like a knife, demanding that

we give everything and hold

it accountable for nothing.

Doorways.

The dream started like this.

     a quiet street

        with no lights

             and I'm alone.

I moved from 

block to block

with trash moving 

around my ankles 

like cats begging for

attention. It was 

so vivid that I 

could read the headlines

on the newspapers 

as they floated by 

like tumbleweeds.

They said, "Havoc 

in the pockets of those 

who think they are in charge!"

and "The doorway is 

closing, if you don't run 

you'll never make it!"

So I carved a bouquet 

of roses into the street 

and signed your name

because I knew that 

eventually;

you'd find your way here.

in the company of ghosts.

There are things in the fog

that hold onto breath

and live off it for as long

as mathematically possible

the equation is simple I'm sure

but my pockets are empty

and I have nothing to write

with;

in the company of ghosts

I keep to myself.

no matter now much you prepare...

I leaned in and quietly told my father

that it was okay to go.

and that i loved him so much

and would take care of my mother

that he didnt hafto worry about

it anymore.

and then he died.

and if he could see us all i'm sure he was amused.

it was like a tableau of love and loss. 

his funeral is tomorrow. or at least his visitation.

he knew so many people. im trying to prepare myself

for the barrage of people telling me stories

about how great a person he was and how he

was just so goddamn funny and a great golfer

and great friend. he was really someone to look up to.

this is not going to be easy.

sleep when I'm dead.

We're moving on thursday. I hate packing but I'm looking forward to this new chapter. I hafto be up at 6am tomorrow to go to a meeting in knoxville. I'm gonna hate my life. I plan on writing more and putting it here. We'll see how that turns out.