​in bare branched sycamore trees

American Pleasure Club

​in bare branched sycamore trees By American Pleasure Club

Sometimes I feel like dropping
Down to my knees and weeping
Openly, my face pressed against
The dirt and fresh cut grass, but
Something keeps pulling me
Up, up until my feet dangle
Just above the lawn and I
Hang there like a newborn dog
Limp and blind in my mother’s jaw

Two small shadows left running
Under branch, under street-light
Shapes traced on the white skin
Of the moon, reminiscent of
My father’s face in the
Bathroom mirror, he shaved
Each morning, hot water
Running from the sink and
From the shower both
And me, sitting on the
Toilet beside him
A falcon diving from
The top of a high rise
Small meteor falling
Towards unknown prey
All there ever was
The morning dew
The sound of one
Hundred lawnmowers
Struggling to turn over
A low, slow humming
Resistance in
Every muscle’s
Sullen, sore
Rising from
A dream

What will not haunt
No house, no car
No breakfast bowl
Cereal, two coffee cup
Almond milk, check
Engine light, nausea
‘I have not been here’
Or, ‘I have not been
Home’, whose book
Is that you’re reading
Today, on the train
At the bus stop, or
On your lunch break
Do you remember
Watching the Columbia
Shuttle Disaster on TV?
Do you remember what
You did the night of
The Sikh temple shooting?
Man with gun
White T-shirt
What will not haunt
No house, yet
You wake up early
Before the sunrise
In a cold sweat
Anxious, there is no
Button to press
No pill that will
Slow your heartbeat
This way, there is
Nothing left
To reach for

My grandmother is
Dying, my grandfather
Is dying too, and the
Cat is dying, there
Is love inside each
House and in every
Room and every
Chamber of your
Heart that the
Light touches
You have a dream
Where you are
Answering phones for
A large corporation
You never learn the
Name or what they do
And you don’t know why
People are calling, but
You answer, every time
And every time there is
Only the faint sound of
An older lady weeping
You want to comfort
Her but you don’t
Know what to say
And you don’t know
What’s wrong, or
Why she’s calling you
So instead you think
To put her on hold
Just for a moment
Just long enough
To get some answers
But there is no button
To press, and no-one
You can find
To help you

I am in love and
It shows, I don’t
Want it to ever end
My eyes light up like
A truck stop burning
My eyes light up like
An ambulance on fire
We throw rocks at
The ant hill in the yard
We take a flying f**k
At the moon

Josh died three times
That night in Midtown
First at the bar, again
In his room, and finally
When his body hit
The street
I was waiting for a
Table at a sub-par
Mexican restaurant
When I got the call
The church says the
Glow around a dying
Man is pink, but the
Bartender said it was
Closer to blue, and
I think I believe her
Blue is the color of
Love, sadness, longing
But also of cool water
Touched by wind and
Bloodless skies after
A night of lightning and
Rain, blue is the
Color of solitude
Following the long
Quick fall out of
Love with someone
Who hurt you
Blue is not loneliness
Just as solitude is
Not loneliness
I don’t know how
He felt that night
Lonely or haunted
In the Four Seasons bar
They’ll remember him
In flowers and
Instagram captions
I’ll see his face in
Bare branched
Sycamore trees

I’ve run out of money
Again, and it’s a
Reminder, I guess
Of how very badly
I need to get up from
My place in the
Sun and sweep the floor
Vacuum the car
Wash the dishes in
The kitchen too
I met Nick in
California, only
Once, before they took
Down Hansa, He was
Very kind, though
His arms blistered in
The hot, ugly sun
I saw, a few months
After that, someone looking
For him online – claiming to be
An ex lover, but most likely
Something different – we are
Very rarely what we say we are –
I hope, if he wants to be
Found, that they find him
And if he doesn’t, I hope
They search the whole
World twice over without
Seeing even a shadow of
His roadmap flesh

In my dream, I am
Sitting on the edge
Of a small, wooden
Boat rocking along
The gentle waves of
Lake Michigan again
Like I am only thirteen
No cellphone, no hunger
No desires at all besides
For the day to never end
I don’t want to have to
Row to shore – I can
Barely see it

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