Maybe the Guff Was Empty, Cancer Full Moon Eclipse
Maybe the guff was empty—Cancer full moon eclipse
Left field call on the black wall phone
faint cry from the distant end
spoke with throat lump of capital
disaster and a troddened womans most
everydom—lost before found—somehow Jan
knew and put forth a celestial no comment with
I-hope-I-am-wrong-love gesture for the
love torn bull awaiting a cancerfold friend
offspring no spring-perhaps next spring. Anna
solid Anna so poised of classic stock sometimes
never bending to an antiflexible Taurus mood
was caught in a never place, the why of questions-
depleted character strikes. Will the blood
hordes rally for the fallen “fetalrade” and
heal the internal emohurt temperature
inferno of unknown bliss. Does it ever come
at the right instant? Like where’s a cop when
you really need one—maybe 7-11 therapy would
bring solace and peace. Forgive the forgiver
and pass your senses into another birth ability,
Keep your mind and your soul for the little
lost egg. I don’t know or could never compromise
no more of a complex juxtaposition of life
and death than that of biobeings so
closely connected that share the same
existence, one within-one yet
percent infinity bonded in a tidewater
liquid symbiosis that no manbeing in time
past or future will ever hope to match let alone
entertain. Be that as it may, you’ve felt the
sting of life and the creation of flesh for a brief
moment of time in time and all time is that holder of all
events we hope to achieve—your time in both
will come to be—you will share
and create from within, and not waiver
about the fallbacks we run down for
no explanations from anyone will suffice
or reason to make a whole sense of such
a fathomless inconsistency. I felt your
loss deep in my knees and thoughts flew
to your little soul upstairs. There are words
and there are no words—my deepest senses
to you and Dana—I know it will happen for you
as all things come to pass for those deserving dave collins
Copyright © Dave Collins | Year Posted 2013
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