talk about alchemy
with my change i used to buy her rings from fishbowls
full of toys outside the
they were like little plastic pieces of some ancient
alchemists dream. i would present her with my
presents in their clear capsules and she would smile
like a well spent quarter. her slender fingers wore
the childs toys like real jewels. but one day
i looked into the many faceted mirrors and gleams of
beginnings and spent a little more than nickels and
dimes left over from my last bottle of coke. i took
this tiny fragment of my labor and slipped it on her
finger in the dark. at first she thought it was another
twenty-five cent joke but only for a moment, a blink.
it took us just three years to turn plastic into gold.
what wonderful medieval scientists we would have made.
day my grandpa didnt die
he was gathering
a pile of inanimate flesh,
body i could not handle
it was too big.
i chipped ice away,
clear the steps for the paramedics,
it gathered in tiny crystal shards
i brushed them aside,
were not the issue.
thought that he should die
selfish wish for the slow dissipation
life allowed by cotton sheets
an iv drip,
used to feel
some youthful understanding
my goodness (promised)
be exchanged for a life,
i screamed into the night
my screams solidified
tiny ice crystals
floated (i am told)
to prove the existence
hands are really meant
us with your comments.