Month: October 2022

hullsmash

balladrael 
it doesn't have to be good
it doesn't have to be there
it has to be perfect
it has to be here
I march in a straight line and imagine myself dancing
I save in a mason jar and imagine myself spending
the silver rolling out of my hands into the spotlight
I sit at the bus stop and imagine myself running
suit top comes off, shoes come off, briefcase spills open in the wind
I don't even own a briefcase
I am the briefcase
I want everyone to read my papers
I keep them under lock and key
it has to be numbered
it has to be divided and tabbed
I brush my hair and ponytail it
imagining it dyed blue and horse-wild
I think I'm in the west but my lap and folded hands are in the east
port is starboard
the ship is in a museum, curated
smash its hull with a red fire extinguisher
read me
get arrested.
when the ship is rebuilt from new wood under the same name, 
with the same birth certificate
is it still the same ship?
what do I fear more:
death
or rebirth

[Featured Image: a firefighting aircraft. Creative Commons license]

sun

balladrael 
the asphalt in summer is so hot it burns bare feet, it returns to tar
the car dash radiating egg frying mirages
the ice cream truck languid, its tune pushing through the heat, its interior dripping with icicles
the skirt I wear has many layers of itchy netting
my church shoes are too small
one of the buckles is broken
I leave a forehead smudge on the car window as we drive past the ice cream truck up the hill towards the congregation
nobody worships the sun
perhaps that is why the sweat hisses on the sidewalk and the potato bug husk burns
She demands
and we sing hushed hymns in the dark.

[Featured Image: Nave and organ of the Cathédrale Sainte-Cécile d’Albi. Creative Commons license]

carne vall

balladrael 
don't take me up into that ferris wheel cage over the water because all I will think of is falling and landing in the water in the cage and drowning and 
a carnival is no place for Death
although She loves to eat the corn dogs, pick at the cotton candy, luck out at the cardboard shooter, win a stuffed animal
Death takes no breaks
Her eyes are always in the crowd
Her hands are always busy
She rides the Ferris wheel and takes in the world with one bubblegum swallow

[Featured Image: Roue de Paris. Public domain]

wishes

balladrael 
All the wishes bottled up
You can let them loose like champagne
You can launch them like coke mentos
You can label them in handwriting
In tight curls of ink on white stickers
The bottles go in the cellar
Nestled in criss cross wood
Overanalyzed
Overdue books
All the pages in the bubbles are dog eared
You might get lucky
You might taste one wish

[Featured Image: Centre Avenue Bridges, NY. Creative Commons license]

mergull

balladrael 
Floating in a warm salt sea
The sensation of falling before your own weight disrupts the surface and you sink
The sand tumbled in water brushing your foot scrabbling for the words at the bottom of the water
The push into the air like a mermaid like a gull cackling for crabs cracked on the rocks
The flight over the rolling hills, fishtail flapping, fish eyes open to the sun for the first time, fish eyes opening on either side of a human face
The trees are losing their leaves
When you jump in the leaf pile who knows what spiders will silk across your skin
You are burrowing
You are at the lemon crust of the sun
You are sunburned in the surf surfing
Your feet buzzing with the warmth of the stars
Your hair alive in the wind
You dive
The mermaid goes to sleep in the kelp
The gull goes to sleep in the palm
The palm of your hand goes to sleep around a pearl
Like god holding the whole earth.

[Featured Image: Lesser black-backed gulls, Creative Commons license]