October, i'm running

She walks in ready to negotiate

All business and black down to her teeth

With flowers in her hands.

“ The witch arranged them for you

when I said you took care of me”

but the next-day rain is cold, cold and down,

going through corduroy to skid across flesh

a snifter stained with wine

Waiting on steel wool to scar it.

And where is she? Holding her insides

While they stick her full of needles and sugar

I recoiled like a garage door closing

When she told me she wanted to see other people

This is winter.

October I’m running and all that.

This is holy roses drying on the counter

And red red cheeks as again I find

If I have one I’ll have 15 and then

tear the house apart.

The tire wheel slicks across the road

Wondering when the horns will blare

Too loud, or hearing the screech of white owls across

The river asking for reprieve, asking to be

Let in.