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Tried


by Darryl Price


 

 

to rise and rise for you and rise some more and

catch the next wave into the slickest part of the new 

found air of youthful intention. Hard ground seemed to

like me a lot more for myself

than those snobby clouds I was watching, and those few brown 

 

birds probably had a good twittering at my expense, I suppose. Might as well

welcome the leaves unfurling at me like a shower of suddenly thrown butter 

knives, even let the vines tighten

their grip on my muddied up shoesoles. I used to

dream of walking somewhere with

 

you. That would have made

a great memory. Now I'm

always looking at the sun's

presence from every sort of off angle. This

can't be helped. I'm glad

 

you escaped the war zone though. We'll always

have whatever love we were

able to muster down in the tunnels. I've cried

and you've brought me to laughter,

so it's not like I

 

haven't felt something more than

life's many brazen lies. I meant to always

thank you. It's just hard

enough taking tiny breaths to

continue to talk at all is all. 

 

"Drive to waterfall" was what

I'd written on a piece

of paper with your name 

on it. This is not

as mysterious as it sounds, maybe once, but not any more.

 

 

 

 

 

Magic Cloud

 

The way you go isn't always determined by the winds

you love. But neither is it something that has

to always be forgiven. We are the men who are here

to celebrate you like a sailing ship we've gotten to

 

know by heartbreak.  We face the truth of you with you. You're

still all alone and we're still going to die. But the pitch

black darkness always ends somewhere and someone's new steps rises up and says hello

and  truly means it and you find yourself smiling once again.



Kino Has Thrust Her Hip


by Darryl Price


 

 

out so sweetly against the fabric of her blameless

time in a black and white blouse like

a frozen knock at the door. She's holding

a blunt gun vertical to her one straight

leg, but she wants her thickened smile to

tell you it is more than probably loaded.

Even if she can't use it as well

as a lingering, violent submarine shadow behind the crackling

 

radio static in her head, she'd probably end up doing a lot

more damage to everyone's image of her hair's

bobbed heavenly meaning with it anyway.  The dangerous

world could still be navigated and brought homeward for

beauty, it just couldn't be stopped from ruining

everything else nice in the process. Ah, the

screaming masses, always good for a fat buttery laugh.

There are always going to be sideways places

 

one can slide into that will provide the

necessary historical vehicle for a moment's dreamy getaway

from the grime of days to go. Go ahead, run my facial features

and you'll watch the many frames of hiding

popping up just below and beyond the surface

of the reflecting scum like scratches to the

drowning of light. Kino wants to know when it

will be her turn to dance her way

 

out of this town, to leave across the

floor a trail of broken tries once and

for all. It's all there, in the dark

cigarette circles under her eyes, in the stuck like gum

gasps between her innocent munching teeth, in the feather pinned

hats and the soft leather shoes that showed

off the curves of her feet with such

undulatory promise in the pouring rain's newly drenched over heart.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bonus stuff:

 

 

All Hearts Are Broken

by Darryl Price


 

into and robbed of

their perfect treasures, the secret seeds of

dreams. Children are stolen

at birth away from

the one safe place where they exist solely

to become the new

answers and not just

the same questionable sands thrown back into

the sad, watery

eyes of God for

hateful spite. All hearts are crushed, in pieces,

swept and dumped, buried

under trash, or kept

in a museum as a warning to

all others about

the need to always

find a way to love while you still can. All

hearts are broken

umbrellas, turtle

shells in the end, but that've made us whole, into our

best. It's that simple.

 

 

Slow Erase(Made You Laugh)/Jump

by Darryl Price


 

We've got to try to. Forget the grammar

police. Let them storm out of the building

like bullying children if they want. It's

our pretty star alone that they're after. We

know its forest denizens better than

anyone else knows their own reflections.

It's always been our one soft spot. We found

each other's hands inside its lost skies without

knowing we were looking. And it was right

here inside like a fresh bowl of (just off the

squeezed cloud's) rainwater. We're the galloping

ones who are still charging forward, if anything, and

getting bigger than the seed pods we so

hoplessly cling to, afraid to open

our eyes again and dream of more, afraid

of what forever might bring to our new

love's restless, growing wings. I Know you'd prefer

not to be left inside any kind

of emotional pain by life's random

chemistries, but I know your ache's pinched nerve

around the middle--because it is the same stuff as mine!

I only wish there was some easier way

I could somehow reassure you things are

going to be alright. You'll just have to

experience that meaning's doorway all by yourself.

That's the saddest part for me. I want

to be there with you. But I'll be waiting,

if I can, to hold you and let you cry out

or laugh if you want to let it all out that way. How'd you get my

head thinking like this? Isn't it enough that

spinning gravity and amazing luck

have had such a beautiful child together?

I know you can't leave the world you've made thus far 

happen without damaging the one we

already live on. But if you don't and

I do, where's that drop me, my hands still full

of a scrunch of paper towel flowers scribbled all

over for you with silly red heart markers?

Words can be buried and blurred by time. I

get that. It's the slow erase. But, oh, what

will I do without that other half of

your best smile? Keep on looking out for my

falling star messages? I suppose. Alright ,

then, let us risk whatever this life's worth

on maybe actually winning the

whole golden house under its own good authority,of course,

or leaving this town. Nah. You get

the whole caboodle (on me) for free. Go ahead now. Jump.

 

No goodbyes necessary. 

 


 

 

 

   
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