fellowship of fellows

mike brown
is still dead and
darren wilson
is still free
and ferguson
a metaphor for what’s inside of us
still burns

_______

natacha and i talk
through cracked-open desk window
(her outside, me in)
and i want to make a joke
about a drive through

_______

pointing to the empty chair
at the round table
i say helene is with us

_______

the skitter of a rhinestone button
(throws rainbows in sunlight)
across the floor
as i pull the cardigan (buttoned)
on over my head

_______

luminaria lined up
licking warm light
into the well of night

_______

after a report on being on high alert
it doesn’t take long
for the evening’s joke
(about a drug called lert)
to form itself
and has us laughing in the night
as we head north on paseo

sounds like a dr. suess word
snerts doing lert i say

_______

bubbly water
effervescing
in globe-shaped
wine glass
while candles flicker
light onto off-white walls

_______

how hard we (fellowship of fellows) laugh
in mara’s red-carpeted living room
as tom reads
and how hard
the silences land
after that

_______

light moves through
blown-out black velvet
tacked to wall
10 feet tall
fabric kinetic
what we find
in the shadow

_______

under the adobe arch
i thank mara
for reaching through my antagonism/ambivalence
about this day

_______

sky burned out
stars glinting through

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Filed under daily practice, poems, poetry, writing

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