testing, testing, testing
it’s been silent for a long time now,
and I’m not sure just where I left it

took one to bed
took another
took nothing from it

took one to drink
to talk
was going well
I think I think
I think too much
take little from it

testing, testing, take time to think
take one to drink

it’s all a bit shit without practice
no one with whom to test it

don’t waste their time
don’t take too long
no interest vested

it’s all too vague when there’s nothing there to make it stick
we laugh, I laugh
too untested

four years down and still no respite
still just waiting
missed one, missed two, missed her
missed it

testing, testing
check the phone
and no one texting

there’s nothing there,
and nothing waiting
things will come
but none become
the one to test with


Sisyphus crushed

Perhaps by some shift of gravel
unforeseen by eternity.

Perhaps by a slip of the body
numbed by the push of countless yesterdays
and that what is now must be.

Who knows what grain of chance
finally broke Olympian will.

In the last moments,
shoulder against stone,
the absurd judgement echoed in this head,
falsely easing the inevitable heft.

Then just the newly silent hillside,
the stone,
and Sisyphus dead.

Walking on softer ground

Tell us,
where do we find you
if not at the horizon,
pushing the sky back so others can breathe?

Why not?

How heavy can your name be,
how heavy the gavel, the eyes on you?
Is it the kind of weight
that ruptures through the skin,
tearing lips and branding bones?

What’s the measure of your worry?
Does it span from streetlight to streetlight
on unsafe side streets, where your body is yours
but still you need to hurry?

Does it taste like the sand
they force you to die kissing
at their feet?

We seek you.
Understand the urgency.

So where    do   we find you?

On the way home,
safely at the brim of quarter century,
asking if you’ve built on what was given
and if the kiss was arbitrary.