A digital print of poetry set on a backdrop of a flipped parking lot reflection.
She said he had dirty energy - the wind whipped cold the mud sunk low - an interminable abyss of sludge and waste - she breathed deep - the wind held - she let go - a gust settled leaves on scarred land - like surface stitches on a wound too deep
he had dirty energy - and you could feel it in the air -- a sickly smell leaking over crisp winter -- like arsenic in a cocktail -- an evil refined -- death loomed over sleep - tired trees not dreaming of spring - but struggling to be
I dreamt once of fall -- before the fight for life left no space for dreams - I dreamt of sleeping strength -- of leaves that nurtured roots -- of solidarity highways - busy underground -- guarded by stoic sentinels -- branches, trunks - a bare resolve
I dreamt once of fall -- when our life filtered up above - shots of brilliance - rising thru the mud, the muck, the sludge - eating death, consuming rot - the fall, our rise, I thought -
I dreamt once of fall - he had a dirty energy, she said
and I lay me down - the wind swaddles sound - muffled, I breathe – he has dirty energy, she says -- I melt into the ground -- a circle of consolation -- a penance for these sins - a fight, a dream, a root, a life - to be - come spring.