Covalent Bonds

after Bryson Hatfield

Zane Grey slipped near the drain
losing his never to be forever balance

He was often careless like this
lost in the milieu of millennial-like
reflections on self, and life, and the careless
way he stepped, reflected the careless way he

Losing touch with the ground was simply
body following mind

Inevitably and quickly
his brain case,
filled with brief wonder,
closed the gap
met the ledge

A robust stream
of blood
slipped warmly down
his neck

His girl, exasperated,
having made allowances
for his flitting mind and
inattentive hands heard the
thud but didn’t move

better to let hope rub a rush to heat
than call 911 right away

To Pass On

To Pass On

It’s never right
never the same twice
never the same slice
of silence

Jennifer had golden hair
often laced, in spring, with
pointed yellow petals
she was, to the land, and us,
a star tulip

But now, she’s a thought
crusted & dry in need
of wine and more silence

The task is not pleasant
between moments

I need tools — and education
as to their proper use


Dearly Departed Thought

I met a thought
--where many thoughts are met--
and there, emptied my pockets
   of pennies...
fistfuls and fistfuls
as if assisting blood into vial

there then
having scattered due
   offerings to this
   fruitless religion...
   the thought...
this persistent recurring thought...
suddenly, mercifully and mercilessly
   departed --
as thoughts do--

          as I do now