melting

today it is perfect, cool sun again,
whisps clouds draped across the cool blue,
soon it will be cold again,
all of us wrapped up,
sharp air,
stinging,
prickling the tips of toes,
hands and ears,
sending us screaming love again for all,
into nightmare dancing,
tiptoe on the sidewalk,
crystals alighting around and tumbling down,
the winter parties come too,
screaming,
howling,
from scintillating rooftops
and dragging frozen ankles through
the illuminate confetti of the first storm,
it is perfect,
quieter somehow,
calmer,
probably actually,
as most of us spend at least one
more day sleeping in,
curled under blankets and jackets,
your partner in rest becomes more than
just your favourite love,
but salvation,
the cold that creeps in from outside
is so more easily dissapated
than the kind from within,
and if i could hold herclose enough,
maybe the last of the thaw would reveal,
cold gloss receding and left the sprites of leaves
creeping through first alaskan soil,
dark as soot,
rich as gold,
but only a moments time to get a
lifes work done. 
it would seem that these lives are moments,
we only have a lifetime to get a moments
work done as well. 

throwing furniture

i awoke just a kid, slight haze of reflected neon from 3 stories down giving me just enough light to be able to see with tender peripherals the piles of papers and couches, and chairs and lamps and clothes and just a ton of junk that i was near buried in. there was no way i was getting to the door without first finding a light, which soon became as evidently elusive as the imagined door i thought i was looking for. i need move some of this shit. tried at first, just shuffling around, but the quantity made headway negligible...i needed to just plain lose some of this shit. i had a vague idea as to the location of the window from the dim light, and i knew it was open as the sounds of the street below was unmuffled by glass. maybe if i just push on the shit between me and the opening i could just force a bunch of it out. force. i leaned in with all of my youthful energy and spent ten minutes sweating and straining, again to no avail. try again, fail. again and again. finally quit.

so i sat, seemed for years that i sat, and tried to pretend that the shit wasn't there. which also obviously was futile. what next? maybe i could imagine myself to be not there, in the room, in the dark, surrounded by shit, surrounded by so many things that i had held onto that i couldn't even move. i got pretty good at this, so good that after a time i was almost invisible...

i awoke, just a kid, slight haze of reflected neon from 3 stories down giving me just enough light to be able to see with tender peripherals the piles of papers and couches, and chairs and lamps and clothes and just a ton of junk that i was near buried in. there was no way i was getting to the door without first finding a light. and now i was almost invisible. so i needed a new plan. cleverness, force and pretending seemed to be useless in this task. there was one last thing to try. i groped in the darkness, and searched until i found the smallest thing i could lay my hands on. i settled on a pile of papers, and grasped just one. i folded it into the smallest shape, until it wouldn't bend any more, and without knowing weather it would actually make it to the window, or if i was even aiming in the right direction, i drew back, belted forward with my arm and let go. maybe it went out, maybe it didn't. but it might have, so i figured i would try again, and after that, again, and again, and again, until the whole pile was either out the window, or else piling up around it, and at least closer to being gone than before. next was a small ball, next a shoe. i eventually made enough room to begin to rearrange again, but this time with a purpose. to clear a path to the window. small items cleared first, small battles won, bit by bit, until there was room for a lamp to be thrown, a bag, a book, and when more space appeared, more moving could be done. on and on like this, until i could vaguely see the outline of the window, and eventually had a clear path to start moving larger and larger items, eventually tables, chairs, couches piled upon couches, which required strength, but with a plan, no forcing.

before i knew it the room was clear. i almost didn't see it coming, i almost forgot it was what i was working towards. clear, empty, done. i felt my way along the wall, traced the lines of the room and eventually found it. the switch, cool plastic, easily recognizable, and not more than 1 foot from where i had initially stood.

lights on.

square room, one window directly opposite the door. empty and clear. done.
turn around and go. a moments hesitation, this room was all i had known for so long. the work had become meaningful, and even at times enjoyable in it's passage of time. but work here was done. stop, rest, take a breath, take a step, take a breath, another step, another step, another. close the door behind.

i awoke, just a kid, slight haze of neon from three stories down to guide me down the hall, down the stairs, out the door, and into the glare....