Country Song on the Radio About How He Left Her Again
He got painted onto her walls a solid brush of black and white –
no heart on his sleeve – a snicker just resting on the brim of his hat.
Everything fell over tumbled into broken jeans –
jumbled ‘hang-on-tight-to-the-sides’ pick-up trucks/ rolling soda cans side by side at his feet.
She whistled out pie filler, bad B side songs,
caught her phrases in the palm of her hand –
unripe baby birds she’d set them free and watch them rise up,
mourning them almost – the freedom she let.
She’d earn his stories on the second date -breezy hair, brown eyes
poking at his sides – “more” she’d say in the folds of his arms, “more”.
He powdered his sentences on the wrong side down -spaced between some lie
then smashed up against itself -caught up inside how lonely bad love can feel.
Kicked like a can- only looking back when she’s tired like a lazy eye –
days into night so fast the starless moonless specs of time
change into full-on nothing she remembers inside old tires worn thin/dusty.
She kissed him once under the thin -open blanket of the night,
wrapped herself around him like a question mark.
An umbrella poking its way through the rain.
i got plenty of nothing
i have this half-filled jar with air
just air so sound and secure floating its way free
so it seems….. it does….
it seems to share itself with easy.
i open it so slight so careful…
afraid maybe that passing curtain winds will blow it off its perch in the sky –
off the mountain of good it claims to itself.
wings maybe i think –
a winged bird can open this jar.
the rocks fill the space between the rocks
it can flutter its wings all brown and grey
flutters across your vision
when it passes.
i have this jar all filled with air
filled with tight hard ‘once i thought so’ air.
now i think ‘this or that’
shake the jar i think..
roll it down some hill watch it bump
see it land.