The Sea is Rising

Plaster is a poor excuse for a building material.
Time is cousins with moisture and temperature.
An item lost is never lost just stuffed in another box.
Fiber and wood wound together to make conversations.
Cupcakes are cooling.
The calendar is getting filled.
The sea is rising.

What You Need To Know

The bus carried them thru upstate New York to a patch of earth just feet from the Hudson river. None of them knew who sent the email but the contents was compelling enough to convince 36 strangers to arrive on 09/11/01. Their instructions were simple.
Arrive at location by 8:32am.
Look up.

Pine Wall

I am sleeping but I see something just out of reach. It is a wall made of unfinished pine. It is suspended from the house jousts and hovers six inches off the basement floor.
I see scraps of card stock, paper, and transparent rice papers attached to the wall. I see gently emerging from the fields of white, what appears to be black entanglements of power lines or bird nests.
I move in my sleep but one by ones and insulation is piled in front of the wall. The wind wakes me. The basement is empty. I can't find the pine wall.

Sheets and Sticks

The wind is finding it's way into the corners. Frost is building on the slides. Mary is lost. The black sedan is circling the neighborhood. I remember the field's shape. Four trees were grouped like toddlers around a dead bird. Rain has begun to turn to ice. Mary was wearing a yellow raincoat. The towers are buzzing. The sedan is surrounded by a sea of pulsating lights. The wind is picking up. They are on the phone filling the air. The snow begins to take hold.

Instructions

There is a need to tell who might be listening. The horizon is patches of amber straw and evergreen brush. They are waiting to listen to what is being planned. They will be on the edge of the farm just down from the lake.
The matches are being lined up on the kitchen table.
They must listen.
Jars, ropes, bees and bails of hay are loaded into the barn.
The distant fields roll gently out the passenger window. The world is covered with grey skies. The rain slowly begins to touch the lake as they wait in time and listen for instructions.

Rempker Park

Clouds reflect in steel. Towers line the parameter of the park. Thousands of strangers walk around the grounds looking for teeth and broken finger nails. The river has washed up the losses of northern cities.
The crowd waits for direction of what to do when what is need is found.

Tanya & Kim

It was always the two of them. Blisters and sun. Smoke and park benches. Homecoming, prom, spring break...they were together they were one.
Time would stop to take notice of these most popular friends as they crossed the quad. The trees seemed to gently melt into the autumn sky. The boys casually line up against the brick wall to watch the two move thru space. Yellow buses arrive and circle the entrance of the school.
They hold hands. Jeans glide up treaded stairs and disappear behind doors signaling the end of the day.

What was, what is.

There was a small crease in his suite that was put there intentionally. Everything was planned studied and calculating. A question wasn't asked without him having an idea of an answer. The dinner table was set according to a grid and the help were lined up exactly four inches from the wall. Nothing was left to chance or out of place. Tonight would be perfect.
She had forgotten about the evening and dressed up for the occasion by adding a little lipstick to the covering she first put on in the morning.
She added a scarf to keep up appearances.
Nothing needed to be anywhere, work was done the world was on hold until the part began. Nothing needed to be put together what was…was.

My Brain Six

My brain is a blanket. My brain is a stove. My brain has weeks of food stock piled. My brain is a basement. My brain is linen. My brain sinks below the surface. My brain washes fields of dirt. My brain has cracked tile. My brain is winter winds. My brain is lighted lamps. My brain is frosted bars. My brain sifts through rusted cars.

Where Memory and importance Meet

I wanted to talk with who was in charge but I couldn't find the time. The fa
Ily kept me tied to a escalator and the air was growing thin. Fighter planes have the pilots train in extreme conditions. Breakfast is cold. The summer house is border up. I hate how once clear things are now lost and mischapen. Play clay editorials. Silicon Hands. Phones and napkins. The focus is lost on the couple across the bar. The drinks only hint at what the night will be...

Danny

Butter rolls and jams were his favorite food. One particular week this was all he ate for a week aside from the morning cup of coffe and the nightcap tumbler of scotch. The rest of his time was spent walking around the lake reading the New York Times. When I say the rest of the time I mean exactly that day all day until the sun went down Danny was his name would read and walk. At night I assume he slept but I don't know exactly what happened with Danny after sunset. Now this sounds like a tall tale but I assure you as all that is holy and evil Danny was a walker an obsessive walker. I need to google what condition he had and if he is a rare case. As for me I don't particularly like walking so I think I am in the clear.

Brain Five

My brain is walking a tight rope above streets of marbles. My brain is located between Omaha and Sicily. My brain speaks to empty rooms. My brain is cedar planks in upstate New York. My brain is marimba. My brain drinks after five. My brain waits for direction. My brain is temporary. My brain leave coins on tables. My brain is anger and spice few if anything nice.

Dumb Questions

Winter is waiting for unsuspecting tourists. Apples are rotting at the foot of trees. The lawn is dormant. The neighbors talk but never listen. Dispatch is waiting for a call with directions to the site. Three drivers sit at the counter and sip coffee. Traffic slows to a crawl as it turns of the interstate.
Outside the window a woman is on the phone. She is smiling as she talks.
In front of me I have written three words on my napkin.

You.Will.Know.

Dumb Questions

Winter is waiting for unsuspecting tourists. Apples are rotting at the foot of trees. The lawn is dormant. The neighbors talk but never listen. Dispatch is waiting for a call with directions to the site. Three drivers sit at the counter and sip coffee. Traffic slows to a crawl as it turns of the interstate.
Outside the window a woman is on the phone. She is smiling as she talks.
In front of me I have written three words on my napkin.

You.Will.Know.

Those Who Watch

The alleys are being watched by the ones that are in the corners and behind your chairs. Roasted chickens with sides of potatoes and greens. Sunday dinner. Heads are bowed. They watch. Near the wall paper they breath and wait for eyes that can see them.
The sun is setting the leaves are falling. Sit and breath. Wait to hear them beneath the boards and around edge of the dining room to the basement.
The alleys appear empty while the basements are full. Twisted silhouettes of branches hover in front of street lights.
The grand piano is playing. They stand around the table as the heads are bowed. They hover below the feet under the table and brush against skin.
They wait. The last words are spoken. The bottle is opened. The chicken is carved.
They wait for the ones among us to join the ones that are watching.

The Blood is in the Park

The blood Ran Cold

Wishing that the sun would dry my shoes.
You see it was a long night. I did more last night then some people do in a lifetime. Actually strike that. erase and amend. I know i did more last night then most will ever do.
Period. Its morning and I am having my favorite breakfast. a pouched egg . rye toast .. orange marmalade and a fresh cup of pressed organic sumatra coffee. a splash of organic half and half.
Fresh squeezed valencia orange juice and npr in the background. When time permits I have a fire in the Benjamin Franklin stove and on this morning as a treat I have the fire burning.
Rex my trusted mutt will get a long walk after breakfast but for the moment I get to sit and look over the back yard and relive the night before. This particular morning I notice a pain in my left shoulder. I looked down to see some blood coming thru my cotton shirt. Maybe the night wasn't as seamless as i initially thought. In the mirror I can see the bandage holding my shoulder together was saturated with blood. something must have gone wrong..but I cant remember what could... I decided to put on my shoes.. only half dried to check on my work I did last night. i need to make sure everything is in its place...that everything has been properly cleaned.

Population 45

The water was rising to the edge of the parking lot. Trees were torn down to the west. The cars were floating past the the huddle of people making a fire on the last handicap spot above water.
The rain had finished and the world was taking an extended breath. Questions of what was left above water was the topic of the moment. 45 men,woman and children were all that was left.

List

Linoleum. Brick. Plastic. Oak. Soda. Lemon. Fireworks. Blood. Black. Blue. Year. Nip. Needle. Spoon. Race. Run. We. Power. Bark. Bristol. Tire. Gold. Silver. Dust. Frost. Love. Hate. Bake. Tea. Morning. Cloud. Hands. Breakfast. Soup. Wine. Bagel. Coffee. Sister. Little. Elm. Snake. Tiger. Teeth. Claws. Bats. Roofs. Wires. Sea. Ocean. Yellow. Planks. Ships. Bottles. Keys. Cars. Trucks. Girls. Boys. Prince. Stadium. Orange. Strawberries. Fish. Fields. Limes. Leaders. Lost. Random. Hide. Bike. Streamer. Steam. Chance. Cold. Winter. Icy. Plane. Tiger. Basement. Base. Bass. Chicken. Rope. Soap. Minty. Old. Spice. Texture. Saw. Hot tub. Foam. Napkin. Filter. Ridge. Four. Soak. Dishes. Steel. Sparks. Customs. Gear. Flank. Jets. End. Never. Brain. Distance. Egg. Never. Brain. Distance. Egg. Regain. Find. Discover. Porch. South. North. West. Joe. Years. Michael. Beets. Time. Automatic. Video. Despite. Cousins. Family. Father. Mother. Sister. Brother. Blanket. Redwoods. Amy. Coast. Remember. Girls. Love.

Lines

A line has been drawn in the sand. A line is running down the drain. Rooftops are covered in lines of power lines. Lines on the face. Lines on tables. Lines on fields. Don't leave me behind enemy lines. Just get in line and wait your turn like the one before and after you in line.

Have and have Nots

They line up and wait to be walked through the maze of plywood and artificial snow. Sunshine hides the depression of the late wandering breaths as their heartbeats stumbling down broadway. The rage is thick as molasses. We sit at a counter and share nicotine. Blankets are wrapped around the feet to keep the head warm. Blue pens draw out the plans of lawyers, doctors, and dancers. Sketches of plans cover the walls of corner stores and basement studios. The cold is beginning to take hold and the cellophane is rolled down the sidewalk. The safe are beginning to see a new winter is taking hold with no plans for a thaw.

Dyer Woods

Trees line the edge of the field concealing a dark world that makes a child's imagination itch. Red bags stacked and pressed into a peach farmers truck ambles down the one dirt road toward the black of the forrest. The two young ones are watching from a safe place in the high grass. They wait for the black birds to circle away so they can run hand in hand to the back of the truck just before it disappears into the dense wood. They climb into the bags and huddle deep into the center of the pile. The smell of decaying earth and moist grass fills their noses. They lie and wait for their dreams to end.

Calendar

June. The yard is overgrown with flowers.
October. The air smells of the neighbors fireplace.
May. Boats are buried under oceans of sand.
December. Time is stacked like coins on fathers work bench.
July. Amber bottles are scattered on the sheds floor.
March. Rain fills the cup holders in the car.
January. Ice fills the basement.
September. Bleach pools on the floor.
November. Twigs built the house.

What he Needs to Begin

Rows of corn husks were stacked in the kitchen. Kids circled the dinner table waiting for the end of the harvest. Miles of notes were written on scrapped paper bags. Matches and knives. Thesis papers and bottles of scotch. The farmers stand at the front of the house and wait for the sun to lower behind the horizon. They ring a triangle. Family is ready for the ritual. With the sun down the family is free to speak. Plans are being made as the mothers tend to the toddlers. The teenagers are seen going to the barn to bring the farmers what he needs to begin the ritual.

My Brain Four

My brain is wire mesh. My brain is a lemon stand. My brain rolls down gravel hills. My brain is a bonfire. My brain leaks antifreeze. My brain hovers above cedar
planks. My brain writes on graph paper. My brain is falling. My brain travels on railroads across the plains. My brain remembers and forgets. My brain eats rolls and soup.

Tell you how it Will Be.

Broken tiles and melting trays of chocolate filled the kitchen. He was trying to make sense of the fight he just had with his mother.
The curtains were stained with nicotine and the faucet leaked.
Mother never really understood him.
Dinner would never be made at this rate.
Rain would only fill the cup never the pool.
Mother would burn down houses, choke puppies, and sell fireworks to toddlers but never would a meal be presented before it's time.
Never.
Two crooked fingers wave a pall mall across the
Kitchen.
The word never from her lips. Never. Then for good measure she grabs the scotch from the cabinet and walks out to the back yard. A trail of smoke trailing behind her head.