Charlie’s cough

Charlie grew weaker
from the old
1940s window pane
i’d hear him
then one dusk
in September nothing
a few days
passed i rummaged
the building’s trash
casually looking for
unexpected art supplies
it seemed Charlie’s
kin tossed out
everything that he
possessed and of
no advancement for
them pedigreed relatives
yet in my
quest for treasure
troves i found
from Ohio an
old Glessco bottle

mbrazfield (c) 2015

coffee with an ex

light vaporizes dust shower
the gold in your eyes
the groans of our lives
spoken in the quiet of the morning
we sit across from our faces
silent in broken music from our hearts
but we know
we know
in the honey suckle trees
our kisses and screams
are held by perfumed tendrils
by spider webs keepers of hollow seed husks
and an old shredded classified page flapping in the hot LA wind

ulcer

mbrazfield (c) 2020

acid rain drop tear
eye field of grain
gypsy cloth for burial
standing we don’t stop
just beyond the starline
shelter roof of water
floor of heaven hell
grew cold of waiting
ulcer in the chiding
mouth of goddess  in
between  the deaths of
lives less killed  our
candied bitterness let’s build
a temple maybe five
before the swallows fly
back stoned to nests
tipping over ashes was
the flowers of my
bed in hair graying