lost my orbit
or never had one
the fire i used to drink
and the sea i used to crash into
no longer there
wondered whether any of it
silly words
tears false hope
petrified despair
the longest summer nights
when the horizon tilts just so
circuitous assurances
of pride and care
was real
and space and memory
are so perplexing
at high resolution
but the emptiest trajectory
is still propelled by gravity
grief is the most ordinary feeling
and there are billions like me
none of this should exist
and the least of these
wonders should have remained
starsoup never spreading into
stardust never assembling into
life were it not
for the swirling beauty
of the tiniest
disruption
strange you say
how we measure grief
in years and not
by the weight of each
memory sinking to the
bottom of our guts
branding flesh that's little more
than emptiness held
together by tiny charges
curious you say
how the floor can keep us down
with the weakest force
as the pain wells up
through us and around us
but won't pull us apart
how it rises to the top
far beyond our sight
far above this nervous heap of energy
how it leaves us with the charm
of yet another arbitrary day to live
let go let go
he says with a buddha smile
let go he says
as if he knew something
i don't
need these things
need love
need to suffer
all we need he says
is to want nothing
so i consider
his wealth and renown
all he could afford
to give up
and i reply
that i would rather
keep this week
of dulled pain and unclenched fists
keep the day off
from the management of grief
keep this hour
in the presence of your desire
keep this transcendent minute
and allow myself some things
i was taught i could never have
somewhere on this trip
along uncertain coastlines
i forgot what my body couldn't do
and when the sun fell
through heavy curtains
you forgot what your mind didn't know
the change that came over me
imperceptible as the shifting seasons
so bright in its power and glory
and the change that came over you
formidable as a field of wild flowers
with no need for divine intervention
so when the storm hit
there was nothing to lock
and no one to save
and when the storm passed
we were still two
witnesses to the other's change
i suppose i should
fight fascism
cure cancer
or at least use my eyes
mouth and hands and be kind
to one who doesn't deserve it
yet all i did today
was calculate the distance
from here to you and wonder
what constellations would watch
over us swimming through time
going nowhere in particular
the soft words and ghosts expelled
won't serve any eschatology
the records of this desire
won't be stripped for parts
in a banquet speech
no one toasts to second chances
yet nothing we do
is ordinary
against all unkind odds
we are
fold your wings
angel you owe
nothing to paradise
nothing to the storm
that brought you here
fold your wings
witness you saw
all the ruin and
counted the shells
at your feet
fold your wings
and turn
and walk
for another day
the choir won't sing their hymns
for us their house won't give us
shelter and the heavy summer rain
is nothing but weather
we are here by our own signs
we kept our disbelief until
the heat broke and any blessing
was ours alone to give and receive
we won't wait in the shadows
for permission to squat
in the kingdom of grace
and we won't forget
their comfort and zeal
in the kingdom of power
not amnesty
but mercy
no redemption
just life and the memory
of days to come
