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My friend, Beverley
thought she could
weave clothing
out of spiders' webs
But her hands
were too thick
And her eyes
too hot
And the season
passed
As she perfected her life
she went around
surrounded by moonlight
even on the brightest day
and listened to music
none of us
could hear
The spiders
were luring her back
to their webs.
MORNING SPIDER
Yoga & Coda
5:30
cold morning
drive to yoga
NPR
Afghanistan in my ear
Out my eye
a spider
riding silk
swaying in a storm
between door handle
and rear view mirror.
Oh, man.
Slow down
drive to keep the spider safe
ease up on amber
coast to red
glide into parking spot
gently open and close door -
Figure it out, brother
‘cause it's going to be a rough ride home.
7:00
Done with the dogs
cobras/crows/and corpse
back to the car
Spider's gone
silk remains.
///
Later,
spider in the shower
enough already
Splat!
and
down
the
drain.
THE TIMES I DIED
The first time I died
We all smoked cigarettes from a pack of Luckies I kept in the shirt sleeve of my James Dean dreams
She had all the knives in a chef’s kit tattooed across her arms and shoulders
My heart, my heart of wild delight plumed and comet-crossed the night.
The second time I died
It was summertime and we were living on French kisses
The wind carried the sound of lions and freight trains to our bedroom
Our friends were being called to war
Drugs were everywhere
There were so many deaths I barely noticed my own.
The third time
Night
Tom and I
sat at a round table
surrounded by hanging plants
and reflections
rain slanted against the windows
Will you be leaving, he asked
I nodded
and reached
across the table.
The fourth time I died
Our whole family was cremated.
The fifth time I died
The missing children practiced saying hello.
I remembered every person who had ever said my name.
I didn’t care. I was bored.
I couldn’t continue shaking hands with people I almostrecognized.
Life was not a dance
not a mountain railway
not a cabaret
Life was not a dream.
Life was meat and blood -
I wanted more.
Six
Hands
bigger
than my head
held me under
I twisted
thrashed
went limp
watery light
then dark
then darker.
Seven
Asleep
awake
asleep again
awake
next breath
last breath
no, this is fine
in and out
in and out
constellations.
The eighth and last time I died
Breathing hurt
like broken windows
I saw myself waving
and so I waved back
I inhaled all the life I could
closed my eyes, bowed my head.