Remember

Forget what you know. What you know is no longer how you should think. Think about what makes you remember. Remember not to forget to remember.

A blue misunderstanding(

The basement. The dampness of the earth. Misery loves hiding under the coasters of the highballs like small children lost at the fair. 

Rain looks for the cracks. Parents wash their feet. 
Meat is tied into roasts. Holiday. 

Holiday party. 

Captain

The  boy painted a wall of his room black. This was Monday.  On Tuesday he painted another wall black and decided to sit in the corner. The blue line ran outside his window and the breeze off the desert filled the room with the smell of yellow. On Friday the boy painted the ceiling  black and watched the smoke trail thru the air to the open window. 

After the Collapse

A soft flow of a western breeze follows the family to the well. The family of four is trailed by a small dog. The early July sun warms the field drying the morning dew.

The well was dug by the father of the father. For years the family and residents for a 2 mile radius have shared the water. The community was a sustainable community that was respectful and helpful to each other. The year was 2021.

Williams Lake

According to authorities the average temperature at Williams lake was 20 degrees below zero. The fresh water lake during five months of the year was frozen solid. Starting by late December the ice was thick enough to support the weight of a semi truck. It was these factors that contributed to most of the remains of the first body found to remain almost entirely intact.
Detective Timmons was off duty when he came across the body face down on the east shore of Williams lake. Authorities are waiting to release the name of the victim once the family has been notified.

Deacon Lake

A boat carries an undisclosed amount of gold to a secluded house over looking the northern most tip of the lake. Eyewitnesses Bill Wingate and Tim Reynolds confirm that the last radio transmission received by Lois Marvin was approximately 10am. Local authorities after questioning other residents have two possible suspects with ties to Citi Group.

Clear Water

Ray and Tanya were comfortable together. At dinner Ray would hold Tanya's chair and look at her when she talked. He seemed interested and sweet. Tanya smiled  and also seemed to return Ray's interest. From a distance they looked like a happy couple that were still getting to know each other. This is how they wanted others to see them. The plan was simple.  Be somewhere public but act in a way that a casual viewer would just see their behavior, disregard and pass over their table for something of more interest. Ray and Tanya wanted to blend in among the sea of people. Ray would say, "let's be two drops of water in this glass", looking at the glass of water the waiter just filled. Tanya would then say, "how about the ocean...that glass in little tiny.."
 
They would smile after this exchange and begin the conversation their handlers had planned for the evening. 

Translucent

What is within and what is outside. Hands within bird cages, twigs and clouds.  Horizons behind tables, chairs, wallpaper tea and blood. A far off whistle blows and the window pane begins to tear from the frame of the house. 

The children watch as the sky begins to clear and the parents turn to talk. 

Mae

The sisters arrived at the party. Mae didn't seem to notice their arrival but the boys in her group had eyes locked. Everyone noticed except Mae. Mae couldn't be seen looking at anything outside her world. What was in and outside her was a distinction she never made. The world was hers and no others.

When the Children Sleep

Time sits and watches when the children sleep. The water settles around the spoon in the sink. The dog lays on the couch. Ideas once silent begin whispering in the back of the mind.

Tell me something that I haven't heard.

The drip from an eave.

The click of a wrist.

The children are quiet the house sleeps.

Where to begin...

Remind me what the plan was the candle has melted and the family is asleep. Do we wait for the wind or the rain. Down the street the Chesner family is building telescopes that will be attached to daisy cutters. Milk is left to ferment. The towns last elm is being cut down as the ladies sip tea over their last game of bridge.

Split

The anger is what he held. It wasn't the warm days upstate or the quiet nights by the river. Christopher held onto the anger that through years of neglect had managed to slowly twist around his neck to the point where he couldn't tell if it was the anger or the pain of breath that consumed his mind.

Small evergreens lined up against a wall. All the memories could not lead him to sit at the table lined with friends.

Bitter pills sit near the bowl. The time has come to begin fixing what has been broken.
The pencils are in a box beneath the bed. The chalk is clever and content to melt in the rain. Christopher bites down on his sandwich and imagines splitting the hemispheres with his teeth.

Plath

The anger rose up over his shoulders just around his neck to where he felt like he wouldn't be able to speak. Clouds began to circle the sky. The last punch cracked something in his left side. He was furious he let himself be provoked into a fight. The scream inside came from the  sea met the land and rolled to the edge of the woods where it shook the crows from there sleeping perch. 

Pa L and Bilbee

 The farm house was miles off and the water had been gone for hours. Bilbee the dog decided to just take cover under the canvas tarps as little sister L tried to get comfortable with four fists of hay.

Dust rose from the prairie into the light of an early July morning. 
Pa  rode a ways ahead keeping a keen look out. He said we couldn't afford another night like the last. From now on
" you shoot first and we'll then get the shovel if need be..."

I Can't Seem to Find the Words.

I have imagined this playing out, but there is something blocking my view. Three people are in the room. The walls are a slate grey. A wooden bench has been smashed against the far wall. The three are talking. 

I have imagined this turning into a kind of answer to the questions the last ten years have asked. Sheets of rain strike the roof and rattle the room. 

I can't seem to understand  what anyone is saying. I hear a far off siren. The rain is beginning to slow. The three continue to talk, but I am no closer to understanding what needs to be said. 

Loudspeakers

When I look down the hall all I see is the shine of wax. Wax under feet. Wax on apples. The shine of counter tops. 
Windows and rain lead and chips.  Desks chairs and bowls of candy. I see shiny shells. Nails. Red. Yellow. Green. 

One Year Old

In a circle around the cake were circus animals. An elephant, lion, and monkey adorned the edge of the bead of yellow and blue frosting.

Bottles clinked in the kitchen.

Elm trees began to fall outside the house.

A one year old finger began to reach for an edge of the cake.

The sun was down and the grandparents had arrived.

The cake was wonderful.

Make The Wish

The beginning is lost on the end.
Time is lost between lines of text.
What was meant will never be. Clouds burn houses as the crowds look for water.
Time is not worth the weight it was given.

Nine One One

The room was empty except for an empty jar of preserves and a piece of toast. The windows were nailed shut. A burned yellow paint covered the walls and molding.
On closer inspection they noticed a small note attached to the phone.
In a small lettered hand of blue felt ink were the words" don't travel today." love r.

Relevant

Tie the knives on the strings of balloons and set them free. Tie ties around trees until the message is clear.
Tell secrets to the town folks that choose not to listen.
Wash the pills down the drain and watch the clouds from the kitchen sink.
Cut a potato with a spoon and take a moment to reflect on what you've decided was
Important.

Pencil

A patchwork of farms were hidden behind the dense line of evergreens. The first frost covered the bound circles of hay. The two of them walked through the mud of the field into the dark cover of the dense wood. The Forrest floor was covered with pine needles. They walked until they couldn't see the farms on either side. The light seemed to dim until what once was day seemed night. There eyes adjusted to notice the floor had been cleared of the needles. My partner took out his pencil and began to write on her pad...monday 8:34 am ...first body found.

Tape

Jim wanted to watch the tape but he was the only one. Christopher asked what was on the tape. I just sat on the bed and waited to see who was going to put the tape in the VHS. Jim grabbed the tape, held it in the air and said" well no one has to watch but I am...
I remember the train was passing outside the apartment building. The tape started to wind up. The screen wobbled and the tightened focus on an upstate New York field. We watched the tape for one hour. The only movement on the screen was the grass and clouds.

My Brain Seven

My brain is a small pair of dice. My brain washes up on shore. My brain is lemon lips, cherry tongue. My brain is lost inside piles of twigs and miles of twine. My brain sits alone in the house. My brain is wallpaper. My brain is lights and darks. My brain is folding up it's tent. My brain is broken fibers and melting plastics. My brain watches as the truck turns the corner.

Paper Plates

When I am older I will use paper plates to write you a note. When I am younger I will use paper plates to start a fire. Today I will put my paper plates on the table and wait for tomorrow.

Gingerbread

Gingerbread houses. Barb wire fences. Written words on bedroom walls. Sticky with sugar. Sticky with blood. Hidden in the open but kept out of sight. Sweet and sour to the taste- to the touch. Small curled fingers reach out the moving window. Reflections of trees and sky hide what's inside.

Forgotten Town Folk

Water and oil washes off the kitchen table to the floor drain. Morning light fills the kitchen as the smell of fresh cranberry bread wafts up the walls into the slowly turning ceiling fan. Severed fingers are separated from severed toes into teal ceramic bowls. Seconds become days, minuets years. The night has a story for the ones willing to look. For those willing to ask the ones asking shall receive.

Records

The rooftops are lined up like sugar cubes around her cup of coffee. A match is scratched along the doorframe. Newspaper burns as the toddlers climb the mound of dirt out behind the shed.
Bodies are washing up on the river's shore. The documenting has just begun.

Present

Rivers run to the sea. White foam panels insulate the leftovers as the farm begins to take on water. The rifle is loaded. The family is seeking shelter in the basement.

Where the Air Begins.

Where does the room end and the air begin. Hands touch faces. Leaves cover the wells. We can't see where christopher has chosen to hide. It is not what we believe that matters it is what we feel. Something is wrong and we all know it. Something is eating away at the center of our stomachs as we glide down the saw mill park way.

Boat in Pictures.

I was watching the back yard and waited for the best time to start the cleanup. The clouds were gently blanketing the light from hitting the back yard. The breeze was cool and calm. Do you remember the day we were first waiting to see if the seeds grew. You watered the back yard for 40 days. Then on the 41 day we went outside to see the first sprout come out of the ground. Do you remember the picture of of us sitting in the row boat? The yellow and blue sweater you were pulling over your head? Do you remember how you laughed? The rain started. I remember.

Endings

It wasn't that the town was that far away it was just that I knew it was over. The phone had lousy reception.
"what are you saying.. are we breaking up!"
I finished saying something  but who would really know what words made  it to the satellite and back down. Two tin cans in the backyard would have worked better. 
The Farms were turning in for the night with their hazy yellow light. The earth rolled outside  it's orbit. My chest felt heavy. The sea tipped over the edge. 

Blaming the Frost

The beginning is always a long soft trail of memories, of kettles. Crayons and mandarins fill the table with a pleasant smell. Somehow the neglect game is starting and there is nowhere to hide the ice dam crawling into the kitchen. 

Rain and Clouds

I might see a cloud but not the rain. I could see a bruise but not the pain. I could hear the words but not see a point. I begin to choke and wait for the joke.

When I Choose.

When I choose to remember I see a field of corn. The radio is between channels. The paint is peeling off the barn. When I choose to remember I see her at a counter behind a cup a coffee. Street lights blink on and fill the walk way will oval pools of green light. When I choose to remember I can see the corner of the attic. Behind the knives in a shoebox, I see what I have chosen to forget.