POETRY ATTIC: A Private Lie

// Photography: Jeff Wolfe //

Furrowed brow again,
it’s this heat
destitution in wrinkles
on the brink tonight.



Barren fortress mind
falls apart when I wake you
all of our agreements change.
You’ve been where I am now,
will you reach me,
if you can remember to?
Search for those questions
decide to hide in one breath
a private lie.

Stopped by the difference
of distance
this time left to wonder.

The truth looked at,
what can we afford to see?
Touch that danger
end this silence.

An angle that changed,
a border that fell
hang up that hope
when no one is inside.

Forehead will hang
all over again
exceptions continue to define.
Siren rings through the walls
not safe here beneath the soot
that ring around the eyes.
Wet flag waved – white
pockets turned out
lips drawn inward.


Assign this mission
to someone else
pull the curtains
when it’s over
finally reach the clock’s end.
Talk muffled, still came through
no surprise/no sleep
chased out.

Pull the chord when weak
tempt this jury when
the witness can’t be trusted.
Alter rough course
w/ palms of hand
drink the water
leave a note under the keys
beside the door.

Extinguished flames leave
the fortress burnt
exposed air – save it
from the dirt.

Long lost wandered eyes
isolated, locked in the cold
pushed to city limits
mind set on distant valleys.
Vague images of romance
like old television flicker
- a newspaper line
- a distant FM radio.

Veiled light squandered
seen from the sidewalk.
The business of domestication left
imagination is the spy
resigned to hooded head
hidden hands, loose shoes
scrape along the deaf night.


Emotional quicksand takes hold
sense siphoned away
amongst trees, order is achieved
misplaced words of the day
create the necessary escape.
Go on living on top of
each other.

Walking that goes
unrecorded in the hours
that we sleep.

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