Broken Eggs

cottage built of old pallets

fruit case ads bleed thru yellowed kitchen ceiling

must/dust cat fur on room rug,

walls bare, except 

Egyptian wall hanging spattered with egg yolk

 Horus weighs a (Red) heart against a feather (Blue )

burn marks on wall 

reflect indoor bottle rocket launches

induced haunts

upstairs one hot room before, 

only furniture a metal four-post bed

four more stairs lead up to a (duck!) short opening to a small room with a child size mattress

bay breeze drafts through windowless space

chills the day after

no window left unbroken

Edge talk

The Guest

The Guest

When you arrive at the tavern,
you breathe, first, on the window,
draw a wet spiral toward the keeper inside
You have wandered
crabwise
for years,toward this beaded light,
pulling the thread from edge to center

whistling along the periphery,
But here it is,
pulling you from the aching and brilliant day
to this even greater night.
If you follow that call
to the dimly lit threshold,
you’ll know you’ve arrived
by the catch in your throat

as you stand,
teetering on the liminal
wood beneath your soles,
wondering,

are you welcome? You know, peering in,
that you will sweep this cabin empty
if it is your nature
and even still, yes, Welcome

You knew
the moment you stepped
from the great prairie,
delivering punctuation
to the infinite
with this one word,
resting on its carpetbag,
drawing its name in the sand