has all of my ambitious soaring made your feet sore?
flying & climbing, you called me k2, which makes me never first,

you’ve got me running up these tall unsteadied ladders to rearrange
what were once well-organized constellations
twisting them around to create a horoscope you might fight for

it took a while to decipher, but
it might read something like this,

Pisces:
“count and categorize all of your muscles today and put them to good individual use
swimming against negative currents events the spin of the axis channel news
pinch your skin & pennies often and pay attention to dynamic romances,
think like Pangloss and cross-train your uplifting heart for heavy and bursting anaerobic moments”

it sounded like a siesta in the stars, wanting to wrap up, dog-tired and cat-nap
slowly fall fast asleep wake up and see you believing in my dreams.

i climbed and climbed icy everest miles i followed the night so high until my lungs
were getting dry
my burning bones and joints ached to see you grimace and turn that satellite around
put things in reverse, come forward to falling back fall flat on your face
gently
if you crash land, aim for the next astronaut’s arms because this body of 96% water
feels just like cement when the diving starts at your extreme level
of passivity.

it sounds aggressive now come to think of it, how we all need some kicking ourselves.
i need to feel that swift jolt of carbon monoxide down the notches of my spine. i need a small piece of me to die.

i am still in the sky,
i am rolling over in my grave

it’s ending tonight and regardless of its apparent weight, the starshuttle touches back down tonight &
reality has never swallowed a heavier gravity.

i feel it’s though i’m replacing the earth with all of my old nicknames
i didn’t want in the first place. i didn’t have to sleepaway at this neckbreak pace



porcelain slightly crackling adults, we’re kidding ourselves

there were never enough knock knock jokes, but the door is slammed shut now
and we’re kidding ourselves.
i kindly asked you to put dead flowers by the grave to signify the tired flesh laid over my temporarily lifeless chest.

the snow is filling up my pockets, fingernails and eyelids.
it’s winter and even though it took ten times the labor
to take the dirt from here and put it over there,
it is worth it to give you new life.

the eulogy was delightfully honest, tasted a bit of honey which never goes bad.
all of the words carefully spoken needed to be said
every drop of dust and gritty prose
sprinkled responsibly in its proper place.

03/30/2009

Author's Note: resting your head against the softest set of rocks you could find

Posted on 03/31/2009
Copyright © 2024 Steven Kenworthy