Drowning By The Pool

by Darryl Price


The entire room is waiting for me like an octopus behind a closet door.

The monk of the lamp knows he will get his

daily turn on if he prays loudly enough. The favorite chair has my dent in

its punched around chest like an embossed tattoo. A crushed red space I can

crawl into and disappear from any sense of impending gravity. Even

when I'm walking around I feel like I'm falling, falling, just falling

apart. I'm not even sure how to get this message

delivered over to you. It's a pretty simple text I guess.

Pretty much nothing more than hello, help. I'm not holding

out for the answer. There's nobody looking for these mad  

words from me. It's a good thing I have new

music to pump into my veins, otherwise I'd probably be

dead to the whole house. Any way I've noticed lately

that I'm the very same guy in my dreams as

in real life. I feel so numb like I can't


find my way outside anymore. I don't really have the energy

to unwind that one. Just chalk it up to no

news is good news. Jesus, I hate these sayings that

make you feel more alone in the universe than ever. I

guess I don't want to be here either, broken like a glass bowl forever,

like an obsolete voting machine, but I have no place else

to go right now that fits my feet being thrown onto

the crumby floor like balled up dirty tee shirts. I'm starting to

get used to being into a much slower rhythm though. I just

close my eyes. Float, float along. Don't want to see

you standing outside the watery feelings like a statue beaming

nothing but sunshine and shadow to the accompanying trees, hands

on your hips. Better to row out a little bit

deeper, let the coolness of the wind speak for us, and

for everything. Eventually I'll make shore, if nothing unusual gets 


me first. Might even hear your sneakers carrying you away  

as you turn to go. I don't know. There are

a lot of squeaks to the soundtrack of the day.

Any one of them could mean something has changed into

something else. I was thinking of that David Bowie song,

Planet Earth is blue. Yeah. It is. From where I

sit it looks like it just needs a little hug of some kind,

but my arms just aren't big enough to do the

job well. You made me think they were, once. That was

just waves. Now I'm dangling off another poem hoping for

an unexpected waterfall to knock some sense back into me. 

Or at least start me coming home again. Go on.

This is the place where I get off, get lost 

like a so called friend, a riff coming from an unseen window in the neighborhood,as I

feel you vanish into a hole of senseless, draining stars. 

Bonus poems:

Happy Birthday

by Darryl Price

It's all heart, this spirit of
our love. It's the heart, could
biology be true? It sounds like
a lie. It's the heart, fools
sometimes forget. Oh the heart, yes

we might lose something already disappeared.
It's a heart, never question. I
said heart, the clock inside, okay?
It's the heart being plowed, being
mercilessly harvested. I need a drink.

It's the heart rolling around inside
everyone. It's the heart, in the
trees above our heads. It's the
heart, and, as I suspected, someone's
making that wish. The universe doesn't

take lightly to such things. It's
heart, the joy behind the mountains.
It's the heart, not caring what
you've done. It's the heart, crumpled
to one sorrow like ten thousand

cigarettes. It's the heart, in almost
exactly the same spot as last
night's feverish moon. It's the heart,
I tell you, but you won't
listen. It's the heart, shocking you

awake, again. The heart, banging the
door shut behind you. It's the
heart, the biggest rule breaker in
the galaxy, living by stolen means,
take the chocolate and run, kid.

Bonus material:

I Moved You

by Darryl Price

You said, move me, I moved you, but, listen,

I don't want to be saved. You said, move

me, I moved you, but I'm still a boy

in so many ways. I don't want to break

your heart, again, those days are gone. You said,

move me, I moved you, but you could never

be my friend, not in that secret way. The

mystery of love pisses me off like nothing else.

You said, move me, I moved you like a

mountain, but you just weren't into holding on, arms

to arms. It makes me feel so lonely. You

said, move me, I moved you, you left me

there on my own. You said, move me, I

moved you and you made your excuses like a

drunk in the middle of a blackout. You said,

move me, I moved you in a purely beautiful,

brave and dazzling trick of the light and yet

you continue to haunt the darkness like a low

riding moon. You said, move me, I moved you,

but it was way too much to include me

in the joke I guess. You said, move me,

I moved you and I probably always will. You

said, move me, I moved you like your own

personal singer, there isn't anything to be concerned about. 

You said, move me, I moved you and nobody 

knows. Yet that's a long way to go.