Thursday, June 26, 2008

Chain of Keys

On a bruised lip pillow
a dream of keys
makes its visitation
through the tall weeds
of night.
A house of boxes
on the side of a hill
and a vanishing friend
gives me a key.
"This house is the
music of my memory.
I must evaporate
so look after it well."
Now I wander through
the stagnant rooms
past the hammered dulcimer
and the lidless cow's eye.
Past the cancer ravaged corpse
of the dead superhero.
My blind soul and unknown heart
are inflated with gusts of terror
and puppet stringed with strands
of dread.
"Do you like jokes?"
says the ragged visitor
stiff arming through the door,
"beacause this one's on you."
Streams of people from
unfamiliar tributaries
rush into the house,
Run to the center,
crowd the thalweg,
and push me out.
Now I hear
the snare crack of the door slam
and see windowed eyes burn
with entitlement and contempt.
I ghost the sides
of the square box house
sanding my useless hands
with tiny cuts.
They infect with doubt
and swell into split skin boxing gloves.
I punch a hole
into the wall
and
drain the art and life
from my right hand.
Upon re-entry
I am burned
by the wreckage
of my situation.
The people have left,
returned to some
other laughing shore.
Every window and door
is forced ajar
and sideways sheets
of furious rain
shred the frail foundation.
I run panicked and searching
through every shrinking room
for a set of keys
to close the doors
and lock the windows.
A set of keys to keepsafe
the music of a memory.
Each key
on the age worn ring
I find at the top
of the last hour
is unfamiliar,
unremembered
and as useless
as I.

8 comments:

heather said...

You're cute overlord.

Good stuff today Sutherland. I posted a new one myself.

Yer init.

Do you think the bamboo will work?

ScaughtFive said...

I'll take a look at it before I weed eat tonight. Before that, I'll take a look at yer new one.

Anonymous said...

H-towne, beware of bamboo! It's really difficult to contain. Even with a six inch concrete barrier, containment is a yearly ordeal.

You have to be real careful when planting bamboo. Its root system spreads fast and easily, overtaking and choking nearby beds, fucking up house foundations, driveways, you name it. Caring for it and containing it can make your life miserable and its invasive nature can make relations with neighbors contentious.

Not sure whether you're thinking about planting bamboo or making something out of the dead stalks. But if it's the live kind... I'd reconsider. My bambooo is the bane of my existence here. It has enslaved me. Yes it's pretty, but it's a killer.

Here's one little page on bamboo containment: http://www.bamboogardener.com/containment.html

SusuPetal said...

That sounded like a surprise party, guests being the living deads.

You poem, that is, not the bamboo...

heather said...

Nah, I'm just usin' store bought bamboo to guide my tomaters in to the straight and narrow.

Or just straight, really!

Anonymous said...

ah, tee pee style with three bamboo stalks tied together at the top works great for that.

Still helps to add a little string around it, too; them stalky stems love to hang and dangle about and get mighty heavy once those tomatoes start fleshing out.

ScaughtFive said...

Yes, these suprise parties keep happening in my head when I sleep lately. I don't know what they mean.

ScaughtFive said...

surprise, I meant surprise.