Be No More
When my wife incinerates me
and I journey through the flue
befriending, no, becoming air,
free of touch and possession,
I will be no more.
Wafting with lost balloons,
soft in breeze against a cheek,
seen through, no, never seen,
present with a yawns release-
I will be no more.
Gale, zephyr, or tornado
ripping through fields of wheat,
demanding, no, decanting light,
penetrating prisms bouncing in mist-
I will be no more.
Caught between bullet and skin,
exhaust from rattling pipes,
abstaining, no, adhering water,
thick Mississippi, tree breath-
I will be no more.
When I ignite and distinguish,
producing no more thought,
Duke’s, no, Miles’s horn
will be sounding in celebration-
I will be no more.
My Brother’s Boxes
It shan’t be long until I burst
like an abandoned balloon,
traveling distances above our map,
before its forgotten tail twirls
around unforgiving golden spikes-
trapped in a cactus, unnerved
with each tuft of wind.
Heavier than a Cadillac
in the attic, boxes beg opening.
A History of Baseball on top,
the red book which when he was gone
I sneaked into his room,
studying the shapes of early mitts-
that recognizable red spine.
Now that he is air, and I am old,
and time is a fickle spindle-
red is a different meaning.
The balloon trapped in a cactus
stays alive as long as the wind
subsides. Stirred, for we know
how air acts as a barrier
just as well as a force, and pushed
by the Sun’s breath-
that recognizable red breath.
He is air. I am flesh. His boxes
in the attic for years, relinquish
the balloon upon the spike.
Family Photo Shoot
Sagging fleshy old pug
in my arms as the family
shuffles between spots.
My task: patrolling
the ponderous pug.
Grump thanks me
for embracing the chore.
Historic mansion;
backdrop of reunion.
Rusted saws and flail,
horse tack hung
from rusted attic nail,
Pitchforks, jugs, shields-
my back propped
on lawn chair, wavy
German hair waving
in bluster. Grump
thanks me as I carry
his sagging flesh dog
up the stairs. My back
prevails. A weekend-
family in the mansion-
a pug and a dachshund,
and a Grump joking
he’ll soon lay in coffin.
