whatever
is owed
the day bought & paid for
with stolen moments
by
faith subdued & stagelit
alleyways
leading to the beach
mist lifted from the waves
proclaims its presence
“Remember
me?”
2.
Milarepa
said there were four ways in
&
one way out
but then the dead don’t shimmy in the
stained glass display
window
& the fogmist like a leadweight
holds the pier in place
when everything else is falling from your
bulletproof
kimono
& guitars bend like uncharted constellations
in that darker place behind your eyes
3.
Your relfection
& others
in the ocean
rush
the murmur of
unanswered prayers
in the
eucalyptus
