A Village of Friendly Shadows
Your coffee cup sits empty—an unwritten manifesto of earthenware
and concavity. There’s so much I still don’t know, can only guess at.
The undiagnosed illness of picture-taking, leading yourself around by
the nylon of a short, black leash, talking to yourself in the most vibrant
sing-song, a purse filled with vile but true accusations. Your moment
of isolation in the deep stillness—grape fantasies buffeted by mosquito
wings in erroneous translation. Blood from the closet of your third eye?
Simplicity. I’ll take the plowing under of your autumn vision and build
you a village of friendly shadows. Above rooftops hangs the brew of a
rustling mandolin. The future is fluid, waiting for your thirst to hunger.
Points of Exclamation
Light from a long-dead source
in erratic sequence;
nothing is mirrored in your eyes
nothing echoes from the walls
of your absence.
The grass bridge of trust
hangs somewhere between us
strained by gusts of synthetic fear
and the voice of unspeakable things.
A desolate sky still finds us
torn and heaving,
miserable eyes and echoes of sorrow
determine a confusing landscape
where your longing
groping at the brambles of your own misunderstood web.
Glints of silence
against our bodies
into points of exclamation.
Richard King Perkins II is a state-sponsored advocate for residents in long-term care facilities. He lives in Crystal Lake, IL, USA with his wife, Vickie and daughter, Sage. He is a three-time Pushcart, Best of the Net and Best of the Web nominee whose work has appeared in more than a thousand publications.