Lay Me Down

Lay Me Down long poem

Photo by Thairms


cold water
laved across my brow
in my eyelashes
seeping across my cheekbones
the beginning of a flood

I felt this fever coming
joints going loose
strange music
creeping into every sound
lashing out unfinished

the jug of orange juice
slipping from weak fingers
slower than gravity
bounces on a plastic corner
dawn smears the linoleum

every hard surface a cathedral
memories have to cross miles
pillars of reality
a man can lash himself around
where is the aspirin and water

dry hot now
muscle and fat braised too long
clay slabs trap bone
brain is a ball
rattling in a chicken coop

train in my dreams
running without lights
slow thump of four wheeled trucks
metal on metal
causing the concrete to bounce

all those tons of weight
freight bound for anonymous purposes
confined to a track
moving at the whim
of an engineer

as my father was
standing in the engine
hands on brass and wood levers
polished by time
hot as kindled coke

miles tick through his head
no joy in the journey
arrive safely to depart
eat to sleep
fuel up for another day

thunder of the yard
all day coupling and decoupling
huge bodies slapping
my father responsible
for those deadly recoils

I wake in the closet
sniffing out his sweat-stink ball cap
ebony rubber boots
scratch of wool jacket
he only wore to funerals

but my closet contains soft cotton
supple leather
tools of a man who works
sitting on his fat ass
blubber pecolating sweatless

I dial the phone to ask my mother
when do you know to go to the hospital
but she’s dead too
they never heard my goodbyes
but they died

then I suspect if I close my eyes
like they did
surrendering to sleep
a depth beyond any mineral
black hole sucking in the soul

I will never wake up
I will discover the truth
so I pull my shirts atop me to sleep
to wake in a tangle of armless sleeves
and disappointment

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GlenDodge

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a poet from Seattle Washington USA. His poetry has appeared in print in publications such as Bellowing Ark, Point Nopoint, and most recently in Contraposition magazine. When not writing poetry he is a Human Resources professional, a repentant glutton, and a novelist specializing in the weird-fiction genre.
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