Family Plots

Looking back upon the plains
of the corn husk
and the grains
there we were
before the storm
sans Christianity

Though our hearts
made us lost
we forbid
a family plot
for imagination

She stopped
sanding the fence
he stopped going
to the sea
I stopped
remembering
who I used to be

Baby Bird

Baby bird
swinging from the trees
but baby bird
has flown
from ecstasy

Mother hen
has landed
to coddle
the infant
of a world
not meant
for me

For the infant
cannot make
a nest
infant
can't feed
unless
someone forces
food down
my beak

Honey

this bees in it
stuck in honey suckle
surrounded by
harmonies of buzz
but our strongest point
is our final key
melody
through a whistle
by grass
these things won’t last
except in a bump
on the ones
that cannot perceive
that final note
was more about
the single bee

Pronouns

You’re given birth
You’ve created worlds
You’re constantly alone
You’re always somber

We’re both fucked up
We’re both impossible
We’re both unaware
We’re oblivious to each other

I kept myself locked
I lost illusions
I have saved myself
I think there are no conclusions

We’re here for each other
We’re separated
We’ve done nothing
We’ve never met one another

You’ve looked around all town
We’ve both been feeling down
I keep hoping
We’ll be there