Sunday, January 22, 2012


if i hadn't gone to Oakland
perhaps, we wouldn't have met
and perhaps, she wouldn't
have left, perhaps
i wouldn't be leaving
or maybe even staying

click click
hear the key? turning
in moments,unlocking,
exposing, unleashing
the eagle falling to flight

this, the cliche' of fables
-life is all about choices.
the simplest of math that
ignores the crooked finger
leading us to such

a star explodes, this,
is a happening
to wonder
the choice

looking to the sky, i
see a great maze
ever expanding that
calls to be explored
-if we dare

a narrow passage ahead,
a narrow passage behind
without aerial view
to cheat the way

to squat and grow moss,
a choice
to retreat to the safety
and comfort of
what's known
where fear is consoled and
mislabeled as security

and where there they wait
for your safe return
riding upon their choice dressed
in soft linen on polished tables

we might press on
til an open door
we discover,

this is the happening

and in this place of
no shape or size
law or promise
we find doors

and as we are one alone
only one may be entered
this the choice
this being life
where we meet

if i hadn't gone to Oakland
if we hadn't loved
if she hadn't left
if only i had grown moss
or returned
to where fear
dies of boredom
in shades of silhouette

but i did, and we did
and she did, and
i didn't
so here we are

surely pain and consequence
are the risk
the surety
for alone I've forged
hunger and thirst

if i hadn't gone to Oakland
and if my father hadn't
fucked my mother
that hot July night
but this is life
choices from happenings
happenings from choices