Unsealing
I am not ready yet
To unseal the feed
I blocked
When she severed her life
and mine
Months of sexting
Loving, texting
Turned to silence
I may never be ready
Arctic Mist Tent
I'm shivering in my bed Avoiding eye contact With the arctic mist tent Outside my window Getting coffee in the kitchen I see a rush of grey feathers Black eyes, yellow beak Stagediving on and off my backporch railings I trundle garbage to the curb Two immense hares Mosh pit across the street Spring is a concert I realize Like that time in Montreal Lollapalooza 1994 The mist tent is needed For the crowds violently alive At the foot of the stage as sound erupts Where I thrashed and sang And drank from water bottles thrown by the singer Nowadays I'm like the people at the back Of Ile Ste-Helene Looking through a lens Not strong enough for the heat Not tough enough for the throng That needs an arctic mist tent
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