A thick vine

Is wrapped around my ankle

The only part of me.

That didn’t hit the ground

And moist soil cakes my cheek

And my hands ache

They caught the worst of my fall

Somehow I know

I’ve been passed out

For awhile now

And as I turn my head

I look up, a great way up

One tree, then many

A dense ceiling of jungle trees

and I feel very faint

I blink

I try to focus

Near my shoulder

A paw print

A dog or coyote

Big

And I realize

I can’t stay here

But something is broken

The pain gives it away

And the vine seems to be to blame

Reaching for my ankle

Sends a bolt of pain

And I cover my mouth

With my fist

And hear him say

Don’t move

We’ll help you

This has been a busy day

The way of the dragonfly

Up, back, zip this way, that

I dart the dance of dads

And a new son

Breathes a lighter load

A picture of hope

Yet a far cry

And a mom wants a hug

But 31 daughters say no

And the car doesn’t matter

If the main world is main

And I wasn’t there

I pray it’s redeemed

A proud dinners made

Memory don’t sleep

This has been a busy day

There was another plan.

But the world felt complete.

It’s as if all the angels said

It doesn’t get any better than this

One last nail made a house

One first breath made a family

And everyone surrounded

And everyone spoke for

Until the apple came late

And I believe it gave the time

For a gaze to grow

And for silence and knowing

For design and deep new things

To be the deepest seed

They drained that lake

And found a road

An actual piece

Of asphalt-covered

Going somewhere

intentional road

So a gully then

It must have been

Before some flood

Or damn break

Like a deep deep flaw

In the psyche of a man

That no one expected

And so all we’re surprised

To see his dead body

At the scene of a crime

In a place where frankly

He had no reason to be

But for that road

He journeyed on

Buried really really deep

In there

There is ruin

Ruin as vast as the sea

I’m so surprised

I never expected

That voice

From you

Why not, exactly?

Why not?

Touched and napping

Groped in line

Envisioned and knocking

May I, may I

Barely lucid

Inebriated

Traveling so much

And daring

And scared

And such a spiral

In that room

Or church

Our mind

My mind

Ruin as vast

As the sea

You make it so that I

Have to reach far for

Skyscrapers

Just as I have asked You

And I’d pay for more

Wanting and not wanting

But wanting

To stop the babies’ moan

For the low same pacifier

I would have slept just fine without

And better without the dying

All those arrows from the quiver

And none closer to warring well

For nothing is the prize

When death is the price

And I die and we die and there is waste

A whole lot of years, waste

And look, the tiniest turnaround

The most minuscule sacrifice

Leaps me to large hopefulness

And I’d pay for more

Wanting but not wanting

But wanting

I’m having a strain

Can’t move my mouth that way

Can’t quite bring myself

To stand in allegiance

With beautiful men

Who crank their head

And choose blindness

In light of recent memory

I can’t in good conscience say

That you are a good man

Not with the harsh bite

Of your whisper

Still low in my ear

While you embraced me

And leaned in

So no one can hear

And that request

Was feigned

Lilting with nonabsolution

Tattling silence since says the most

You greedy bird-like mess

Who’s mirror makes you moan

And I fix my hair

And hit the stage

So I’ll yawn and forget you

‘Cause staunchness has its limits

Eleven

I went up to him

Thanked him,

Said I wanted

To be like him

Admired him

His faith

And he knew

I knew

That it wasn’t true

He wasn’t a saint

Not even close

He was broken

I was breaking

And I desperately needed

To know a great great man

If there was any hope

Of me becoming one

So I made him up

Made him up and down

Jesusesque

And he couldn’t

Even play along

For two minutes

As I stammered

In earnest humility

Trying so hard

To honor him

A stand-in

His embarrassed grin

Called, “Bullcrap!”

Correctly

That fraud

Wouldn’t fraud

And so I felt

Really foolish

Standing there

And I thought

Is there such?

I dream of wild things

Mouths drop

Like rubberneckers

Ogling wreckage

So I won’t say

But the gloves come out

Almost every night

And I take you on

As judge

Jury

Executioner

Undertaker

Cremator

Even now

Long after I stopped

Breathing your air

You still capture my ire

So I carve my initials

Across your forehead

And I fire a shot

Of all that you deserve

Right between the eyes

Of a face

I don’t always

Remember

I am a lot to contend with

I overheard all the stories

You told to get a laugh

Clever teachers do this

Each time there were two

Two ways I could choose

I could hear myself

Described as a bright lad

Or as an invisible boy

We never had to worry about him

What does that even mean?

Is it that you couldn’t go looking?

Or that you couldn’t be bothered?

It’s just unlike any other feeling

To see that there is no response

When you appear after being lost

And you expect a big hug

Or you expect a firm scolding

But instead no one knew I was gone

And so I am then the only one

Who ever must contend with me

I have no choice

And you were wrong

You should have worried

Fretted to death

Should have prayed and prayed

Because I was not, am not fine