a torrent on the sill

a sliver of light on gossamer
billowing gusts of salty air

rain...so much rain...
a torrent on the sill
and yet a feeble counterfeit
to the war within the walls

deluge
into you
into me

a linen sleeve in the upset glass
a fluttering sequin lost to the ages
(and happier for it)

into you
into me

the refrain of a distant gull
hear it?
it needs to know
it is calling us home

and what did you think I would say?

i took you there
and my rear view is clear
there is no one who follows
and loiters and bums a cigarette

not this time
we cannot be undone

fly with me to inishmore
beyond the edge of everything
to dún aengus and the cliffs of lore
where gulls convene and offer in

love... oh sweet love...
drape me on the ragged rock
so that I may breathe again

The Weight of Rudine Loveless

When Rudine stepped off of that tractor, fourteen stalks gave way under her tremendous girth. And as she lurched forward to reach around and grab the chain saw, thirteen of them stayed where she had flattened them. It wasn’t in Rudine’s nature to apologize for her wideness. She might have just as well been born a man. And at 6'1", she near bout looked like one from Route 43, except for the unmistakable North side of her, which was really unforgivable.