Battles

You're armed with yourself
and we can tell secrets
once you lose the left one
carried home in a basket
made by yours truly.
You'll sit at the table
telling your story.
Oh they were tough,
Oh they were big,
Oh they could've torn me
limb from limb.
But instead they only got
one so we made lunch
and forgot about it
while the ice kept melting
and the tea seeped.

Two Down

He couldn't finish
the barely started
black and white
grayscaled paper
with only two
answers, both easy,
when he hid it
in a back pocket.
Black squares stared up,
full of menace
while the whites
wide eyed with glory
had a predatorial
stare while they waited
in the dark.

Deep

There have to be meanings
reasons
logic.
An explanation that reaches
into my own definition
of my who
and what.
But
when I try,
when I lurk
and search
and scour
it doesn't show.
It slides further
beneath the placid surface,
beneath where light
stops
and monsters
take over.
Their skin like
the ancient
bestiaries told,
glowing,
showing
where the reasons
hide,
in their lures
that will trap
any inconvenient
visitor
who doesn't
belong.

Crust

The empty train gave us reprieve from wind and city,
making us whole again.
The overpriced drinks made sense of the sounds,
meeting our minds.
Eating cake on the abandoned car, we were alone
when I confessed
Defeat to losing myself in a concert hall bathroom
with no locks.
The wind wanted in but the windows held strong,
the glass kept us safe
just one of the manmade
nets that caught me.

Modern

The buildings rained after the clouds were empty.
We hid our eyes through blind siding sprints
as the lights kept moving
back and forth
and all around.
Once inside, we debate
you taking the side of art
of the wild still left in the world.
I claim indifference, uninspiration,
all that is wrong with the world I live in
I find hanging on these walls.
You joke about the wheelbarrow
full of popcorn and Christmas
ornaments.
I wish it was just another attempt
at poetic imagery but this was
too good to be true, I suppose.
In a way.
Maybe.