Town among Yellow
In the evening / In the morning
“On all sides the silence is unharmed”
To speak of chronology this way
The shape of winter is in the summer / How the chimney now leans
The 10,000 year event / Was never meant for us / To endure
Finally, they pulled his mattress out into the living room
Lilacs emerge slowly with the precision that is their due.
An orange line where his neck skin
House incarnate / House in carnage ...
The windows of her house look outward...
A record of vacancy
And these were the day’s aftertaste / Some sheets and a bible left on the rooftop
She is happy / Wind pulls the wires / Across the roof
“On the same ruinous path, down into the Void.”
Is there a street without the language which spoke it?
The siding falls off one corroded nail at a time
What had spoke
Hiding under the porch, watching the mailman come ...
It’s been determined to let you go.
He said they used to set a box on fire ...
She holds your hand
Tug apples off ...
In the yard a crockpot of stew congeals / In the seat of the chair / Where he used to sit in the sun
Sometimes he’d get lost in the (living) room
How long has it been / Since you allowed yourself to just go / On and on?
Leaf through / The album of yellow days
They found a petrified cat in the transom window sill
Paw prints on the window where the cat ...
That neverending day.
Muttering to the window about sand before it was glass
“The silence in the stone grows enormous” Georg Trakl