i count virginias

we must never forget the things we wish we'd never seen

i count virginias on my fingers,

throw my hat into the ring,

circling to fill the brim,

with words spilled to cover cheeks and

sheets stuffed to explosion;

i’d cut fast, slow motion,

stop holdings to trickle,

clinging to the ripples,

misdirecting the sea,

and find pieces, lose focus,

let go of what’s simple,

plunge deep to the signals

from their submarine;

-

i count paces to a pantomime,

petunias to implore,

snipped syntax and ripped tags to my ironing board,

to assume a due position,

turn anything to more,

turn evidence to identity until there’s nothing you can get me for;

-

i’d create a new language to sing to the snow,

weaken the water below,

format a philosophy set to implode,

at the slightest expression of spite,

as the roots are uncovered in swamp-murky gray,

keeping the human beings away,

keeping the human beings away,

-

because i count virginias and petunias and sunny mornings sprung

to violets and irises undressed and undone,

cogwheels in submission,

cognition expunged,

to become artifacts, scrapbooked fossils, remnants for us

to read of footsteps and paint shadows blind,

ghastly ballerina strides in sonata sway,

a memory left scattered from what was washed away,

seashells on the beach calling;

-

there isn’t a dissertation,

or an amount of honor

that could conjure the magnitude faced,

or combat a secrecy within ourselves

to accommodate such a disgrace,

but a just celebration is my only offer,

a commemoration in place,

for the outlines unfilled,

and promises killed,

mouths zipped to outfit their counterfeit graves,

-

so i’ll step,

and let their empty prints form,

furnish at my side,

trading breaths,

speaking enough to live for,

pace for pace, stride for stride.

acd