TAKING INVENTORY

Image…

a thing so small,

almost invisible

with teeth,

that gnaws away

at the core

of something.

This eating away issue

is subtle, it is slow, 

and goes entirely unnoticed 

until, let’s say,

a cabinet shelf gives way

or a door hinge—no longer able

to hold its screws—comes loose.

These are the tell-tale signs

that something is amiss.

So you call an inspector

to come take a look,

to take an inventory of sorts,

to get to the root of the matter.

The news is not good.

The whole foundation

is rotten. Termites.

Fucking bottom-feeders,

detritivores, you think to yourself,

destroyed the integrity of

your whole damn house.

Now what…?

You will need to do more than

curse out the little buggers,

blame the termites

and their tiny little teeth

for the damage done.

Much more.

FAITH INTO LOVE

Watch what happens to white

when you bend it

like a wishbone.

Watch it crack open

like the binding of a big book.

Watch how the pages flutter

and then send out a light 

like wings that carry

both bone and book

toward the rising of the sun.

THE ALIBI

The place I was

but wasn’t.

The excuse given,

a clever cover-up.

An invention, deception,

a trick of the tongue—

that keeps me a specter

to the present.

CALLING ALL MUSES,

kaleidoscope

this day with my eyes.

Walk circles around me

with your Chihuahuas.

Infuse my every thought with

the steam of espresso makers.

Rumble-tumble me

into this glorious moment

with your blue eyes

and loose jeans.

Sweet sisters, you do this for me

and for you I will press my belly button

until I am singing the word cumpleaños

like a true troubadour

while wishing for more candles

and days like this one.

THE FOUNDATION

Without it

there is nothing

but loose soil,

unsteady ground,

sink holes lurking

like land mines

ready to take you down.

When you start

don’t skimp.

Not on cement 

or any other thing.

See how far you get

if you make mortar

without sand.

What are you building:

a ramshackle house

or a temple?

How you answer

will determine what kind

of foundation you’ll need.

GILLS

If you find yourself

suffocating

in a pond

of your own making,

gasping for air

in the shallowest of pools

that keeps shrinking

in all around you

day by day,

hour after hour,

minute by minute,

don’t fool yourself

into thinking

that you can’t drown.

You can.

And you will.

You will choke

on your own breath

if you are not careful.

And it won’t be

the air’s fault, either.

It will be yours

and the way you let

the oxygen in.

Maybe its time,

to shake off your gills,

grow a pair

of legs,

stand up,

leave the puddle behind,

and put some crampons on

and start climbing.

Don’t go it alone, though.

Be sure to bring

a city of Sherpas

with you.

You’ll need them.

You won’t survive

without them.

‘Cause you can’t carry

what you’ll be carrying

all by yourself

while also acclimatizing

to air as thin as faith.

SKINNY DIPPING*

What if I didn’t try

to be right

or to win?

What if I just

hoped for

a fair hearing

and gave up thinking

you into the role

of Villain or Victim?

What if I set

my story aside

and started instead

with just the facts, ma’am!

so I didn’t kill safety

right from the start?

What if I went so far as to

disagree with myself

and plead to have you  

disprove my point of view also?

What might happen then?

Would you see that

I am not out to nail my

opinions on a medieval cathedral door

or chisel them into a granite tablet

as if they were dictations 
from a burning bush on high?

Maybe we’d be advocates 
instead of adversaries.

And maybe then, one fine day, 
in broad daylight,

we could strip down 
to our skivvies

and go skinny dipping 
in the same swimming hole

where we’d find ourselves 
entirely un-stung and unscathed 

after serpentining our way

down the thistle-fabled path 
of listening.

Inspired by Crucial Conversations,

by Paterson, Grenny, McMillan, Switzer