Books
Poetry/Lyrics
Essays
Charcoal
How can words express
the echo of a candle's charcoal breath,
in cold halls,
of once sweet memory of warm fire and light.
How can I evoke the night,
after night after night of words to imaginary friends
for comfort and hope of someone somewhere
to see that cracked fire and light flee
a dying stone heart.
A cold cough to cry out the end of that start.
The oak-smoked remnant from a memory of flame.
How can words paint hope...
a crack of sunlight in a bedroom cell...
a tweet, to sound positive from an ice-black hole...
the pain of pornography...
How can one write an unlove poem
of forty years of nobody,
except in dear dreams
of once sweet memory.
How can one write
of a loveless destiny,
with the power to feel, and see, and know the curse,
in stupid angular words
of all care's death
like a sobbing fascist.
An unseen husk.
The echo of a candle's charcoal breath.
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