I was at the Costco when they

called me and told me. While

I was standing there in the book

section at Costco smelling the

pages of books. In the aisle made

of just books they

called me and told me-

He told me. My husband was

the one

who told me. He whispered it

through the tiny speaker in my phone

and he didn’t want to

tell me through a small speaker. He wanted

to come find me

and say it-

face of my face,

hand of my hand,

flesh of my flesh- He wished

he was there to say it

say it

just say it

say that my brother,

big brother who grilled

us all salmon, and for

his wife, his four

kids, just the night before,

was dead.

And I was standing by the books

and the cart was full

and my baby faced me

faced my impotent eyes and where—

where did he

where do I

where was I supposed to

The man at the checkout counter

told me he liked my pretty pink lipgloss.

I cracked the code I

did it again

tomorrow— what if tomorrow comes

and tomorrow it’s all gone and I

have to do

the same

hard deciphering

but today

today only when

the numbers aligned

and the meters somehow

paused only then

did I realize Your

name and who

You

were

who they all

were

and it was like

I’d completed something of a

sort of like a

game of getting out

of this dark small room

with lonely questions and paltry clues

new levels strange

vicissitudes and there

behind the dark glass

there behind

was just clean air and

starlight and

You

——— If I slip and slide

away

and if I’m trapped once more

in black glass rooms

and I can’t find any door

or even a plain ledge

to sit beside

some meager dim window and

the air smells sick of

pallid breath

I’ve gotten so good at holding

my breath and

I ask the same questions as before and You

give the same clues

And there at the numbers I lose

the thing —-

Then will You

will You

come

and find me in

the place with all the codes and secrets and

lies and stories and half real things

and no real things

and where the

truth of You is hidden?

Oh Father—160 just

one hundred and sixty and ours

the double bond appears

reproachably rended more again than

perhaps the one hundred and

sixty years then and tired

time is a shallow voyage below

all hunger is gone for

the dry land there is no

soil in the heart of

those who now survive on top.

A pirouetting people they remember

to forget but without the forgive oh

forgive the people who

forget the bones beneath all

their fractured feet while

they imagine better their swollen

unction vaults - - -

across mercurial air

I hear diligent mouths demarc-

ated arms asleep their

inert legs.

With utmost reverence for

those mansions Thou hast

prepared—

I’d rather inherit the dirt

the sacred mud fed with a tutored

pain-gained blood it nurses the land

they all carry on

while the compost plays the

groaning score of this

the last best hope our

earth our

ground our

ransomed dust—

Oh keep and let

them bend

shush— listen

A single bulb on the strand is dead

where the father is gone the sons and brothers

travel to the place where an inimitable

light is not just dim but dire

disparate the fates of babies cold

steel bats and expired weed killer lie

discouraged here in the garage

where the sons and brothers

and urgent sisters

search for a spare light

new sparks to mend the broken strand

there are some who say if one beam

goes out the others will die with it but

I have not found this to be

true the remaining can

still burn

a flame alive in affliction a

second awareness of a

brilliance breath more

awake to what remains all the bright

because an absence of

one beloved light

the standard tome is told to men in

one sure line but I can see

lives and lights strands

and strings they find themselves

entangled and entwined in

cycling gleams of bulbs and

beams their flicker warm the worn

a collective reflective of flecks

lost — we all still blaze

does snow first breathe

when it finally is released

goodbye home woolly puff and

launches not hurls itself

toward all the rest—

of us

and does it see

itself tender as it enters cooing

coating pure

no haste to

get to the

surface knowing at one point

or another

point

it will land

how can it remain exempt from

the heavy law and resist I

watch it turn its way

flit up to where it

came not only content to

fall but eager to prolong

the long travel

but most of all

can it feel all the

chaos it shrouds both

the rubbish heap and

that silly porsche and

does it know of the boy it

downs it lands upon him can

it distinguish he once

used to sit warm

but now

he lies

still cause his heart

couldn’t longer

hold the earth

and does it hear its own hush

all its white distills

all the human

and how can it reach with puny

frosted limb collecting

all the drifters

its instinct senses this

will dilate time

for tomorrow it

will meet fire

in many it sits

spreads rest

then glistens

and welcomes transition

but now

he lies

still cause his

heart couldn’t longer

hold the earth

does he see himself tender

as he enters cooing

coating pure

no haste to get to the

surface knowing at

one point or another

point he will land

death shrouds both

the rubbish heap and

that silly porsche and does

it know of the boy

it downs it lands upon him can

it distinguish he once

use to sit warm

when he finally is released

goodbye home

and launches

not hurls itself

toward all the rest how

can he remain exempt from

the heavy law and resist

I watch him turn his way

flit up to where he

came not only content to

fall back up but eager to

prolong the long travel

does he hear his own

hush

all his white distills all the human

and how can they reach with puny

frosted limb collecting

all the drifters

their instinct senses this

will dilate time

for tomorrow they

will meet fire

in many they will sit

spread rest

then glisten

and welcome transition

And out of nowhere flashes of light. No

actually: more. More than

flashes. A bright new some-

thing smashing through an abundance bidden for so long unanswered

cold— finally arrived. Inside

our most terrible ache inside of it

a lost smile came home. Inside

the— this literally is

my worst nightmare come

true— the answer to

my plea was unconcealed

was revealed and there

it was inside of

me birthed into me

gifted through

a cervix of

horror.

A breaking heart and

the chest pain that you hold

with your right hand

and your left hand

too. The crack wrought

from your lonely heart breaking.

It beats violent,

alone

while the tough

fibrous shield is rent

from the lonely heart breaking.

Heart cracks hurt bad and are

loud.

Pound. Fire.

Pound. Hammer.

Arriving

at our nightmare made

true. Split open. Open

and maybe from the torn

slit there is a dark

red blood letting.

Open and the

clearer sounds of

….. wait. What is that?

The glowing hum of hearts cracking.

Everywhere. Everyone.

Pulses ripping arteries

tearing. There are so many.

Pound. Fire.

Pound. Hammer.

How did I not hear

before? The broken beats inside

so vast the alley of languid beautiful hearts.

And this, the radiant

new

something that came and

saved me:

Broken hearts are never lonely.

BOOK AISLE AT COSTCO

I CRACKED THE CODE

SAINT ABE STILL PRAYS

DECEMBER ROOF

DOES IT SEE ITSELF TENDER

DOES he SEE himself TENDER (remix)

THE DEVIL IS THE UNWILLING INSTRUMENT OF GRACE