So I Do, And So The Tumble Happens

Unpublished pieces

Midnight, and later, rustles like
champagne bottles
through the flea
strains of wonder.
So I do.
I wonder how the battle is won
when this soldier is
tired of fighting.
I wonder how the jars
I love get manifested into
trickles of puzzlement's.
The faithless horizontal lines
crafted like emblems of
hunting dogs let loose
from their leashes.
Mixed thoughts, mixed up mind.
Mortared over illustrations that
I suppose I must have drawn.
So I ask questions.
So many pulls of the string to make
this puppet stop.
Wearing glasses and still blind as a bat.
Weaving books out of terrified imagination.
One day, maybe soon, the lined up keepsakes
will be all I leave behind.

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