summer began with
the long drive to get there
grandma's front porch
from rice and old bottle caps
we made our own tambourines
the steady gaze
of gravediggers
two with clenched hands
as though they were still
holding their shovels
Tribute to Vivian Maier
the test results
on my phone ignored
day of the dead hike
one last hill to climb
before going home
with feverish
intensity
the autumn leaves
and my desire
to walk with you again
Das Unheimlich
"...intellectual uncertainty; so that the uncanny would always, as it were, be something one does not know one’s way about in."
~Ernst Jentsch, On the Psychology of the Uncanny
a turtle's shell slowly
decomposing in the weeds
of a cemetery
how many unmarked remains
under these stones
vacation pictures
taken at the edge of a cliff
the past not nearly
as exhilarating as when
it was our future
I still have
the mirror you gave me
with its gold-plated roses
not long after you
dislocated my jaw
another layer added
to the earth's core
so many chapters
in this novel
we may never finish
"From Russia With Love,"
a James Bond poster
in the antique shop...
it's then I realize that I'm older
than half the merchandise
