And how does one ask for help? Or plead and not feel
Pity, shame? And does one ever grunt and say what one needs to say?
At some point in the yarn of the time, how does one
Look over one’s shoulder to reconcile,
How does one open a mouth to say
“I am lost. I think” But does one truly think,
Or act on the impulses.
Or calm oneself to ask. Ask!


And “When should I think?” I ask
“soon,” I say, “soon, on some wintery night,
When my windowpanes creak in the cold,
When my steel glass never gets warm,
I might think or ask, how does one not think?
and find a reason to reason with it;
The weary long journey, how it doesn’t end
And seems to start at every corner of the road”
“Perhaps, I shall shave my head
and wash my face with some fragrant soap
or trim my beard to look sharp and address it,
perhaps, soon!”

nearly five years old
my nephew plays
with a stethoscope
a fully functioning
auscultatory device
not just some toy
of unavailing plastic
and purposeless rubber
lost to his imagination
he holds the chest piece
against my sternum
the diaphragm cold
even through my shirt
making me pull away
momentarily
out of instinct or habit
even though
it is not needed
he sits listening
concentration tight
across his brow
with very real concern
as he informs me
that he can't hear anything
that i must just have
no heart at all

step to the threshold
love is pulled away with the door
       into the ice night
replaced with mewling horror
exposure   invites my death

It's still cold outside,
so why are the birds singing
so joyfully and so loudly?

Still freezing out there,
so why are the flowers blooming?
I don’t understand.

The hope is still cursed,
so why am I writing this poem,
like it was my first?

The presence of words spoken
weighs heavily on these trembling hands
I wish to take the clocks that overtook me
and inscribe in them all the lessons and stories
gifted to me by loved ones
back when I was too preoccupied with tomorrow
and everything I wanted to be
When this world was all, I thought about
and this life was all I could see
Occasionally, I find a hollow breath
and sometimes, it’s enough to fill these lungs
as I soak this anxiety in remembrance
Befriending grief and hiding from time
walking home in a new day’s cold
Shivers and chills, pulling apart my steps
With aching bones and a desire to rest
but forward and forward I go this time
knowing, wholeheartedly,
that seasons never last

I hope the snow never stops again!
I hope the Winter sinks under our skins!
I hope our four feet freeze
to the cold concrete
while our ghosts both escape in our breath!

If the thaw never comes to our aid
I'll be fine in these tracks that we've made.
I'll be okay right here
with a frostbit sneer
painted large on my **** stupid face!

               You've got the brains...
                   But not the time...

                  I had the dreams...
        But you knew I'm not too bright.

You'd rather leave than throw me a bone.
I'd rather live out my days in the cold
than beg you for one
while you don't have fun
and resent me for you growing old.

I'd rather freeze than thaw with a lie!
You'll be gone with the peak daytime high.
You're the smart one with big Springtime plans.
And I'm holding the bag with chapped hands...