The candles were out

I couldn’t figure it out

what I’d done to be alone in the dark

on a table set for two but hosting one

The candles are out, I still don’t think I deserve to be by myself, like a racehorse running for the finish – euphoric – trained to do this, of course—it can’t remember unseating a jockey, it feels like victory because the horse doesn’t know the aim of the game: don’t pass the post alone.

Now, I’m scrolling back through thoughts and text, with wine and cheese and bread, accompaniments, a wholesome trinity for taking the mind to the affinity of taste buds and off memories and the presently, who scorch me like a rider’s whip if I go near ’em.

All churches smell like this, the smoke from blown-out candle wicks

the same smell that imprints itself to birthday wishes

If it was amber and warm, now it’s crusty and cold,

hard to see through the settled wax that folds my lids, as for being forgot I never did wish

This plain table becometh an altar, for breaking bread and heart, singular

Not worshiping but questioning; belief in man and love and all things nestled with

dreams of a life, the only purpose of a species desperate-to-love,

Why is everyone desperate to leave?

So much so, they don’t even arrive



I’ve driven men away
Into sinking sands with no Way Out

I’ve driven men away
Into overcrowded metaphors;
Heartbreak Hotel, Single AF, My Bachelor Pad

I’ve driven men without being able to drive
with folded eyes to far off skies

Many a mile and many in bloom
from casual drinks to a hotel room
from a gypsophila wedding aisle
I’ve driven men and continue to

This does and is including you,
You, not the only man I’ve forced away
the only one I hoped would
s t a y


They eroded like sedimentary rocks

He was heavy rain that wore her down

She was crystal forming in place of abrasion

poppy among shrapnel

After seasons of his wicked weathering

She forged a black hole in her brain’s limbic system

Where memories are made, scientists say

She buried him alive in the sink hole of her mind

In it everything they ever did

Every thought, every glimpse

Except for the three kids

A billion seconds later,

She shut the door to his easy shelter

It takes one second of one billion

To find the graphene-hard gristle

a heart of courage

To lose mental torture

and the man responsible

To walk barefoot through the broken glass

To walk barefoot through the broken past

To walk so far, she won’t look back


On this, malignant aridity of a Sunday night

I entertain the thought

Of my dog’s death.

I’ve nursed one before to his final sip

We gave him water through a syringe

Told him it was okay to leave,

To go to his favourite beach

This is that dog’s own son

Who I’m having palpitating fears hereof

Tis why my love is doubled up

He’s his Dad reborn

Grief will be a noose-tight harness

Hanging above all that is good but my

Feet won’t reach the floor to move on

With the loss of our Dad forthcoming,

I hope Mum will laugh again

In broken pieces that will code her grief in

I don’t wanna lose my dog as well

But if I could trade him in

For the man that’s ill

I wouldn’t

He’d sacrifice himself