Quickening

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Scuff mark
hieroglyphics
on the bedroom floor
read absence
read violent removal
read lost

Chambers full
of things deemed precious
all items viewed necessary
for the journey on
now broken trophies
fodder for archeologists

Were the right treasures
loaded in
the binding strips
properly anointed
to ensure a safe tethering
through time

For the sweet prince
pursued by darkness
despite the suns etched
into every wall
hearts have been preserved in stoneware
at the ready for the promised awakening

February 2015
Julie Ayers

A Slow Drift

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The snow hid things
the tracks to my window erased
as the hearts we traced
into the dust on the sill
days when the wind scoured our faces
until they were pink and smooth
as unchewed gum balls

Now for warmth
only the patchwork quilt
made from old T-shirts
the bands we’d both loved
or pretended to love
for the sake of the other
lies that matched the snow
and covered us in dust
that made everything
beautiful in the moment
before drifting away

January 2015
Exquisite Corpse Poem
Zombie Salon Members – Andrew, Julie, Tricia

Fatal Exposure

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ruined early
by William Shakespeare and George Romero
tragedy, comedy, romance
revenge and reanimation
Ophelia afloat
Barbara beside the graves
spoiled children
and dead parents
siblings turned

what chance given then
to find genuine contentment
on the detergent aisle
or on picnics
that ended
with anything less than
terminal betrayal
or utter illumination

January 2015
Julie Ayers

every poem

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there should be rain
in every poem
maybe a murder
grasshoppers
at minimum
a soaking loss
symbolic tiger lily
analogous beverages
scent of freshly laundered infant
paint speckled hand gripping someone’s thigh
bell peppers, un-chopped
claw foot tub on cliff
cradle, over-full
dominatrix in comfortable cotton
autoharp
wheat
lovers
there should be compound fractures
and punctured aortas
submerged iPhones
pristine underarms
corn rows
loons
pill bottles
rumpled sheets on still warm beds
the feeling of falling
endoscopies
gates
unambiguous signs
palm
ring
leaves

December 2014
Julie Ayers

a promise

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all the broken things
fixtures pulled to wire
words inked into the soft
flesh of desktop
kitchen phone in pieces
cupboard door splintered

all these things
and more
broken
but my love

the jam topped cookies
baked in a oven that still works
tasting of vanilla and hope
by a heart that still works

I won’t give up on you

December 2014
Julie Ayers

American Way

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man in the blue business suit and tie
trench coat to keep this morning’s rain off your Armani
you stand next to me in line at Starbucks by the Hippodrome
your face puffy
tired eyes down
do the drugs feel heavy
where you tucked them in your pocket
the drugs you just scored
from the cupless man at the table by the door

will you soon become one of the gravity defiers
who hover over the sidewalks near my office
after they’ve visited the methadone clinic around the corner
or will you remain
Wolf of Wall Street
bloated and rich
a privileged member of the drug class
pro border walls
anti Affordable Care Act
three strikes
you’re always in

November 2014
Julie Ayers

Bed Check

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not stars or waves or blades of grass
no sirens calling movement towards rocks
deadly, seen
yet still the irresistible compulsion
to push forward

buildings tumble
whole cities burn
lives fall like confetti at a funeral
the misplaced
and inappropriate scattering

we scuttle
beetles to dung
heaped as we are with all
the inescapable issues
phobias and triggers, the unhinging

chased always by inevitable gathering
the gluing back together
of the crossword puzzle scraps
down and across
to find an answer that finally fits

let me sleep
away the questions
deeply sleep with repeated REM
no hourly clock checks
and wake to sea at last serene

November 2014
Julie Ayers