Me and Him and Hopeless Place

Unable to sit mind a little blizzard shut in no
out to it poured story to tell of long war never
won and still being written on floors
scars unquenched tongue partial
to being bit not working teeth
grin stark surviving longer
than flowers families floods
under anti vocal diluvian gong
spite strong up the goddam
throat kept clearing ugh
a shook bony rattle spoke
dragged along the larynx
as messaged and tossed
as cold hot tea leaves
showing stained
white marrow
wind whistles
snow blue
wire barb
bent through
but unbroke
as spook.

On a bitter toned halloween I found
myself tied down in ropes of stone
at the bank rocky and sloping
steeply between trail and edge
of eddying remindings of the past
few years of groveling descent
from being a man to wishing
it would end but would it
go this gradual degradation
would my deconstructive
slipping flop away
dying-fish-like
dark and slowly
darkening
city gills
wide getting
nothing?

If the current of flog were to drag
me shallowly deeply waterworld
slid and murk sucked like logs
trunk stripped branches off
trimmed and hollowed
like my downtown life
would bobbing it all
downstream call off
the barking I hear
hellhounds near
october ears
my earlier
and thick
blocked
vox.

Pulling myself up the muddy scratch
I snatched my arm out of the icy
temptation to disappear and went
back to the house grandpa built
pulling off everything wet
under a blanket in the library
leaving the walls lit only by
the sneering down-looking
moon through windows
unshaded flowing
with criticism in
hissing silence
grandfather’s
old clock
stopped.

Who can close face in such shuttered
quarters or turn eyes out of place
away from the doubling shadow
the tripling tricks of skipped
shaking put-upon corners
by inflammous light
twisted art and cast
into vague body
parts arranged
like man and axe
shady carpenter
with one leg
chopped
off.

There you are again cowering covering up
candle under bushel under shivering
depressed purple pall carried around
like a terrier gripping a dirty ball
I came back from France grateful
to be hopeful before returning
where I was born to build
this house and marry that
shining magpie wanted
by all men hereabouts
who didn’t know her
appetite for taking
less from enough
peace from pie
light from eye
leg from me
leaving us
shocked
stuck.

So I will take your place and you will take mine
I said to the geezer whose hobbling I’d missed
when I was a teenager in cloud of fine
points of argument against loyalty
against sticking with anything
through muck of foiled toil
him on his banging crutches
me inside my headphones
sharing wordless meals
with less contact
than carelessness
until he took
pills fucking
his brains
and my
guts.

The fire went out without embers
moon having given up will
just before dawn entered
room empty distilled
spirit turned quickly
walking leaving
sofa filled with
a pile of me
and a leg
nearby a
crutch.

Halloween 2015
Breckenridge, Colorado

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About mrsorenson

all over the place
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