OVERACTIVE

No one likes to
think of a dead
angel floating
face-down in the

tub. But there
always is one,
even if only
in someone's

overactive imagination.
They said I had an
overactive imagination
when I was a child.

A different 'they'
insists I still do.

MIME

A mime's words
are so thoroughly
minced not a single
sound can escape.

Empty echoes
slip from his
fingertips, pressed
tightly against a

glass that isn't
there. At one
point he all but
swallows himself

in one last vain attempt
to parse the silence.

FOR SAID

This poem for you
shows a way I found
to be at peace
with going upstairs.

Maybe someday I will
grow into who I was
before you knew me,
standing in the doorway

with a better question
in my mouth. If I ever
forget to be with you,
remind me to bring

along a newer way
of knowing when to go on.

IN MOTION

I watch bubbles
explode on the surface
of the lake and
realize my poor

dead brother's trying
to breathe again.
I beg him to stop,
but the dream moves

on past windows
that wink and
oddities that refuse
to shrink when

placed outside to die.
No one knows anything.

MESSIAH

Christ was a Jew
who converted to
Christianity at a
crucial point in

his brief life.
He was buried
under the assumption
that he would

immediately rise again.
His followers believe
he will return
one day on

a Greyhound bus
bound for glory.

UNBREAKABLE

An engineer who had developed
an engine that ran on the
desire to get from here to there
was murdered in his sleep by

unidentified "corporate interests".
Those who knew the identity
of the corporate interests were
sworn to secrecy using an

unbreakable vow perfected
years earlier by a different
engineer. God, who could
have done something about

this, was busy trying to solve
the riddle of his own existence.

SLOWER

Sometimes I find
myself getting nowhere
a little too fast and
have to slow down.

Getting somewhere's not
much better. Anywhere
I am should be where
I'm happy enough

to be, but it's not
always. Someplace
else has greener
grass, or claims to.

I get back to getting
nowhere, but slower.

PHOENIX

A new and improved
version of me that
lives somewhere in
the future seems

unlikely. Life
digresses at its
own pace and
ends up at some

destination no one
had bothered to think
of. A bird rising out
of its own ashes

makes believe it's
real and flies away.

THE CLOUDS

The clouds go by,
dragging the years
behind them. There's
so much I had wanted

to tell you, but
the clouds wouldn't
let me. They went
by, and when I

asked them to
slow down, they
sped up instead.
There's so much I

had wanted to be with
you with, but the clouds.

CROOKED

A "no vacancy" sign
outside our local
cemetery leads me
to believe the future's

almost here. It was
as bound to happen,
I guess, as anything
is that hasn't

happened yet. We
try to get ready
in time, but there's
not enough room in

front of the mirror we
share. My tie's on crooked.

STONES

Stones trying hard
not to serve as
monuments to anything
seem lost in some

kind of unidentified
shuffle. They pose
for photos when
the tourists gather,

but later sleep
happily under a
blanket the night
throws over them.

One of them wakes up
looking like Abraham Lincoln.

PRE-MODERN

Sometimes I forget
how post-modern we
are and inadvertently
entertain a thought

that almost makes sense.
I immediately erase it,
of course, lest I
find myself accused

of being only modern
or (God forbid!) pre-modern.
Then I promise myself
not to do it again,

using an old promise I
know I'll have to break.

IMAGINED

Occasionally a tornado
will build a house out
of pieces it has torn
from other houses

in this and neighboring
neighborhoods. This
doesn't happen often,
of course, but it does

happen because it's
theoretically possible
and fits comfortably
inside the imagination

of anyone who has
ever bothered to imagine.

HOLY WATER

A thing that looked
like the end of the
world (it glowed
in the center of

what was probably
darkness) wasn't.
It was something
someone had carved

out of a misunderstanding.
A promise of eternal
life popped when I
touched it with a

finger I had dipped
in holy water.

ELMER

A house that got
accidentally blown
together in a lumberyard
explosion was described

as a miracle by
our village priest
and as a coincidence
by our village doctor.

No one knows for
sure, of course, but
everyone except Elmer
is afraid to live

in the house. Elmer
is our village idiot.

SLOP BUCKETS

I used to watch my
grandfather carry
what he described
as "slop buckets"

to the pig pen to
feed the pigs (who
would later return
the favor by feeding

him). He hated the
pigs (except as food)
and wasn't shy about
saying so in his mixture

of Missouri English and
half-digested German.

THAT TIME

There may come a
day I'll wonder why
I didn't wake up and
ask myself again what

death looks like. I
may or may not feel
around for the light
switch. I may decide

I'm dreaming, like I
was that time I thought
I heard death knocking
and opened the door

without even stopping
to hope I was wrong.

KITCHEN

A woman whose heart
is broken hangs out
in the kitchen, pretending
to care when the meat

will be ready. So much
fails to happen to her
that she wishes it were
morning again and

that she could wake
up with a heart that
hasn't yet remembered
it's broken. She could

fly away on wings she's
not supposed to have.

EMPTY

Life likes to hide
what can't happen
in a closet hardly
anyone ever opens

because everyone's
afraid of having to
look at whatever's
in there. The fact

nothing is never
occurs to anyone,
just as the thought
"empty" is utterly

unable to make it past
the sentry at the door.

(GOD)

God, whose body's
made of paper,
paint, saliva and
a smile, hints at

what he means by
winking at regular
intervals. He removes
something from his

mind and puts it
in the world, hoping
it will catch on and
become popular

like a song. When
it doesn't, he shrugs.