Complications

when I started here my wife

gave me a white gold chronograph

from her jewelry store in the mall

like all successful salesmen here wear

it weighed my left hand down,

silver and crystal reflections

constantly tugging at my attentions

I left it

for this softer, flatter one, yes, yes

weeks ago the batteries stopped at 9:43

but my ex-wife still runs the jewelry store.

Missing Connections

sipping rosé
beneath my rudderless patio umbrella
the recently divorced mother of two

is so
fucking
livid

by carpools, elevators, and skinny jeans
packed with stage actors
longing to buy her rosé.

A Hunger

When I am running,

left
pulling ahead of
right
pulling ahead
again

and
again

and
a gain

faster than
I think I can,

my stomach is empty.

My Breath is the Wind

My breath is
the wind
and my body
a cloud pushed
through a clear summer sky
ever faster,
ever steadier,
ever calmer,
ever easier.

Awaiting

The still shoreline
a patient sawblade
the color of spent charcoal
and spilled blood.

Miles away
a lonely lighthouse.