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.

STUMBLE

Despite plans to the
contrary, the average
person stumbles into
his or her death

as into any number
of similar mistakes.
Nor does there seem
to be another way

to get there short
of stumbling. The
grave is always
open. We have

only to forget
ourselves and fall in.

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.

THAT SHADOW

The church I liked
best as a child
was the one my
father refused to

go to. I wanted
to not attend that
church as faithfully
as my father

had. My father
believed ardently
in the unlikelihood
of the unproven.

I recently learned how
to stand in that shadow.