Caterwaul Ensemble




The warm belly,
The blue collar,
The uncounted, unmistakable scents of domestication,
The incessant jingle,
Unmasking every near invisible,
Prowling step     -

-.

All is an accompaniment,
To the Caterwaul Ensemble - soon to begin - 
                                                - ready to Pounce -
Ferally, impatiently ponderous (in estrus?)

Gambling nothing and all,
for an indefinite, improbable, impalpable imperfection:

Just the right scars,
                Entwined and locked, fitted like keys with
Just the right flaws.

Demolition

Those calloused hands trembled;
Hands that labored to heal wounds long harbored,
Weeding out scar-induced emotions
for an eventually happily ever after-

Those tired arms quivered;
Arms that toiled over the sands of the soul,
Solidifying the foundation
for an eventually happily ever after-

That knotted back shuddered
Back that shouldered hope pebbles and dream boulders,
Arranging the imagination
for an eventually happily ever after.

*       
     *            *

This hearth survived calamities,
endured floods of tragedies
(And the fallout of the failed ultimatum strategy)

Though the castle was built with bricks of pure honesty, 
Masks cannot forever contain cumulative malcontent.

*             *             *

The stoned faced demolition team
Remained silently statuesque ---
all could crumble without a whimper or scream.

In the name of the improbable eventually,
We lament the demolition of the picturesque.

Contamination


The maggots of sedation
crawl merrily in the corpse of willpower;
decomposing every last cell of resistance
into the black tars of addiction.

Psychosis containment unit breached
mental meltdown imminent.

All personnel please evacuate the cerebrum;
and avoid the temporal lobes looping toxic reminiscence.

Mending a Mirror

Neither tarnished the mirror 
by words untrue;
The perfect, smooth surface
Refracted mirages -
a remembrance of candid banter;
a thought of unspoken ardor

Reflecting on the skirmish last fought
upon that battlefield - (smell the gunpowder?)
Heated words whistled past
like fragmentation artillery shells
And the rioting mind wildly tossed Molotov moods
into the tenderest memories
The flickering tongues of wrathful flame
consumed even the most beautiful--

The icy troops of logic begun their work:
Digging the trenches for small sanctuary
from the mind-numbing guilt
Filling moats with unadulterated honesty
(truth so clean you can swim in it.)
Promoting platonic philosophies with morose prose
concocted by purely heartless inductions
And destroying the cross-boarder longing letters
long before the verses
become Siren songs only meant for
your appreciation.

The charred memory-scape,
once unmarred, now
Shattered by our own doing -
Such Art!
Beautiful scars, each sharp enough
to puncture a tear duct.
Now the mirror bore faults like jagged grins,
a smile that's stained with antiquity.

Nevermind the bloody fingers
and the infinite shards of countless hurts -
I am content mending the mirror for the rest of history
(if only your reflection can linger another half an eternity.)