the stranger ghost

the stranger ghost

the muscle was death

a heart which was just

a cowbell a snare drum

swallowed in mouthfuls

water instead of air

my whole life for granted

now a flashing whisper

my life no longer a bike pump

now a bumping bassline

i fidget it speeds

i breathe it slows

your skin my skin

it disappears or it fast

breaks out of my chest

you crushed it with a cymbal

crash! goodbye! who would ever

stoop to put the word

good

before you? your foot

steps trampled my descriptors

it is rush hour

i could have been pushed

in front of the train

people turn their heads

adjust their i-centers

pods and phones

net and e-go there

no, that was a slow but certain

bus driven over my

body with wheels

that broke my bones, my bones

or was it a ship? a whale?

pretend i'm not a ghost

and i'll pretend you're not a stranger

your muscles twitched and spasmed

caught your eyes blazing, the sun of

september, it was evening, you needed

magnesium. instead you chose

an alibi. stop! you stopped holding

and squeezing long ago.

the two-person job was left

to the lifeguards, you quit that

shit, complaining of lousy pay, the sea's

low tides, insecurities with mustaches

and muscles.

the sea was having a normal

day, fully herself, ever-changing.

i sink float sputter swell.

she doesn't

recognize

you.

12.13.11