by RC deWinter 

Some Monday or Another

I wasn’t there when the microwave caught fire.
This is what happens when dementors roam unsupervised.
No real damage except now there’s no microwave.

Someday a new one from a bigbox store will appear.
Like magic. A gift from gods who still care.
I don’t. Not enough to replace it.

Until it does the coffeepot will be on all day.
The coffee will be hot but bitter. I’ll drink it anyway.
Bitter is the flavor of the month. The year.

Somewhere in an airless room a man sits
Wondering I don’t know what. He can’t hear
Me singing. His tears a waterfall

Of coffee hot and bitter in my dreams.
My skin brown from standing under it.
Mouth open. It splashes out. I can’t drink it all.                                             

in for the night

my eyes grow weary with the surfeit of
the ridiculous   the gaudy pomp
of pretension stains the clarity needed
to complete appointed tasks

it’s all make-believe anyway you know
reality’s a word invented to frame a
construct we can wrap our minds around
to keep from going mad

we live our own myths   making them up
as we go along   nothing’s ever certain  
i know one thing   if sunrise is delayed
my journey will be short and swift

   now i lay me down to sleep
no goddamn prayers here   i lack all
but this body that just keeps going
i wouldn’t know what to ask for

taming the lion

although it’s been forever
since our last waltz
you occasionally make an appearance
in my dreams

it is always the same
in the light of the hunter’s moon
you stand armed to the teeth
a bandolier of ready lies
crisscrossing your chest
that x marking the spot
where a heart should be

and as a cloud crosses the face
of the indifferent moon
you shed your weapons
and your skin
and on all fours
raise your head
with its magnificent mane

we lock eyes
the current flowing
is almost tangible
and because it is necessary
to soothe your savage breast
i hum a melody
in the key of heartbreak

split second

it was just a second since i’d turned away
turning back i saw
the world was drenched in blood
that splashed me with its acrid stain

turning back i saw
you’d disintegrated   gone to stardust
that splashed me with its acrid stain
colliding with unknown dimensions of loss

you’d disintegrated   gone to stardust
unmoored i trudged through sorrow’s acre
colliding with unknown dimensions of loss 
disintegrating to a formless sea

unmoored i trudged through sorrow’s acre
the world was drenched in blood
disintegrating to a formless sea
it was just a second since i’d turned away

no swimming

thick july’s driven me
to the cool of the wood
i sit on the riverbank
wondering if the water is
as coldas your last kiss
i’d like to jump in
but fear i’d drown
my heart is made of stone

About the Author:

RC deWinter’s poetry is anthologized in Uno: A Poetry Anthology (Verian Thomas, 2002), New York City Haiku (NY Times, 2017), Cowboys & Cocktails: Poetry from the True Grit Saloon (Brick Street Poetry, April 2019), Havik (Las Positas College, May 2019), Castabout Literature (Dantoin/Hilgart, June 2019) The Flickering Light (Down in the Dirt, June 2019), Nature In The Now (Tiny Seed Press, August 2019), in print in 2River View, Down in the Dirt, Genre Urban Arts, Meat For Tea: The Valley Review, Pilcrow & Dagger, Pink Panther Magazine, Reality Break Press, Scarlet Leaf Review, The New York Times and in numerous online literary journals.