Distance
with only three weeks of summer left
momma reaches for her sleeping pill
hoping to distance herself from the
dry heat bold manners and fat dancing
party hops going on in floods of wine
red white and plenty of gin
mom’s tipsy breath exhales an antique heap of memories
coming unfurled like curtains strewn to halt the moonlight
she only wants to fall asleep in the bottomless abyss
but her own mother dies again in an ashen room
with father seated beside her in grim silence
yet the glow of the present crescent moon
a pleasant memory of half dome rock
the family vacation to cloud shrouded sierras
counter death’s wallpapered room
and the moon grows warmer
flowing its lunatic beams
kidnapping momma’s soft head
giving her glimpses of a spiraling forest
at last she swallows her sleeping pill
and drinks another glass of crimson wine
stepping outside of her beige draped room
her thoughts begin falling asleep
and she sees the moon again
like a painting the lines of color swivel in night’s shaded pond
familiar memories mixing into this alien moment
she knows her eyes might not see it again
and tears will dry fast in the sweltering morning sun
End of Summer
sterilized linoleum floor hallways
with air conditioners humming
numbed patients stumbling around
I try not to meet their heavy eyes
chemical lobotomies are in the process
anti-psychotic medications
I too am given these pills
but my mind is still swimming
from the rock I held against your head
and the shouting I did out in the front yard
standing on dead brown grass casting away demons
on that strange sunday afternoon
when high strung paranoia
mixed with murderous rage
a violent electrical storm summoning
screaming cars with bright oscillating lights
serious men with guns and syringes who fill the drive way
and these men I’ve never met
are standing tall outside my bedroom
with small black pinhole eyes
their bodies maneuvering towards me
they guide me the mad cornered reindeer
into the back of a shimmering cherry-red ambulance
the frantic siren on top spinning in silence
and I’m strapped down like a mummy
nostrils pierced with oxygen tubes
shuttling me to the assembly line
where I wake up every morning on a robotic bed
and eat chalky pills all day long
the lightning coursing through veins freeze into icicles
on the cold psych ward
where steel silver doors are locked from within
and bleached white hallways go in endless circles
where I sleep every night undisturbed
without dreaming a single dream