Avalon
ants crawled across empty paper lines
She forgot what she wanted to say
There was too much and nothing at all
The dead leaves began to fall
from the red roses in a white vase
Remembering the sad song
that played over and
over again in her head
She was all alone
lying next to you in bed as
ants crawled across empty paper lines
the bones of a black crow were caught in my throat
The cracks on the porch cried lined tears
when they butchered the shade of the elm tree
along with every screaming face in its bark
Spitting small pieces across the lawn that
no longer wanted to be green
Excavating the twisted roots
wrapped around iron and copper
secret underworlds that
only orange cats know
Squirrels, tightrope walking on
the black telephone lines
condemning the chainsaw-wielding
weathered tan men
who were just glad to get paid
I could not look out the window pane
The Lorax would be so disappointed in me
much worse than mad
I couldn’t save a single tree, my tree
Nothing remained the same, grieving
wishing they had killed
the dilapidated house instead while
the bones of a black crow were caught in my throat
the other end of the line
Black telephone lines
trace the blue of the sky
Juxtaposing white cloud shapes
Still, they could not thread
your heart back to mine
Black telephone lines
dancing side by side
watching all the trains go by
Statue red rocks
Endless black highways
Whispering green grass shimmering
Neon billboards flashing the night
Fields and fields and fields of corn
Still, they refused to bring you back to me
Black telephone lines
Double Dutch ropes blurring
I could not jump into time
and space where you are
Still, you refuse nostalgia for me
Trapeze artist black crows
with jewel sequence eyes
Swinging gracefully
on black line stages
Soliloquies just for me
Dialoguing back and forth
Choired songs
Still, you were never mine
No matter how many times
I pleaded with your silence
on the other end of the line
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