Ripped Ectoplasm

Pockets full of sand
dig me down
into the floor

Round my belly
a weight of earth
like death

Let me bring you gifts –
apples, grapefruit

I crave your kitchen
drink coffee, get warm,
release the chapters of my diary

~ ~ ~

She's Not There

I came to your city            level
and same as NY, your sky
was miles distant
hit with patches of ruin

You were dressed for the weather
layered, rough and smooth            frictionless
I had an old donkey jacket
it hadn't aged well

They didn't have to tell me about you
I have no regrets
Let's see how today goes
see if the crowds help

Maybe soon I'll get to the coast
watch the waves

~ ~ ~