I am present
I am grateful
I am the must of summer
Through a kitchen window.
I am roots of an oak; firm and
Long aged—no—matured.
I am warm evening baths drawn
With tablets of color (literal ones,
It’s not that deep), that end up
All one specific black.
That’s science.
I’m the early morning cry of hunger
Waking with a fury untamped.
I’m milkfat melting with the warmth
Of my hand and a shake.
I am awake?
I am the kitchen, damp with
Last night’s chicken grease and
Butter because the thing that catches
It that came with it is broken; I didn’t
Know that grease could cake.
I am with full exhaustion,
daily,
and Effortless.
I am every piece of anything I’ve tried
To box or keep from itself; the toil
Of a justifiable medium. I am party to
The thoughts of greatness.
I’m the burden of no one, but no
One burdens me. (Am I the ass
On the—used that one already)
I’m the repetition of a life not lived.
I’m passion kept contained and bottled;
A vintage left untasted; the sharpest
Point of tannin dulled and wasted.
I’m the throttled engine of a broken train.
I am the chickens,
Forever doomed to roost.
I am the trespass, sentence, hangman
Neck and noose—
-–I am hopeful
I am joyous
I am the serrated edge
Of an icicle in winter, carving
My name wherever I land.
I am a strand of hair in my
Own eye; Once I was nerve
The tendril wrapped; the things
We cannot see through choked vision.
I am a monarch, not a butterfly or
King; I am the guy who knows the
Guy who carved the ruby for his ring.
I am the ghost of the buffoon.
I am starch. I am stiff and
Starting to cave in. I am brave
And true. That’s not true. I lie
On grass in worse vestments
Than if I were under it.
I am Frost; bitten, no
Punctured by the morose
But stark fangs of inevitability.
I am the master of futility.
I have chosen this and I have
Kept every promise I meant to.
I have genuflected behind each
Rotten pew, and cursed each frere
Or penguin to a hearse. I have stilled
The chatterteeth of regret with
Every drink I’ve met, and loved the view.
I haven’t yet seen what it holds, or brings,
But, at night, while we all sing,
I am whatever It is we have that needed glue.
I am whole, and pieces, because
of you.