Allies

the sugary one is stirring up trouble
making threats and speaking loudly
of canyons and the yodels therein
I haven’t seen you smiling lately, why?

packing your things
you think of going
but really you’re staying
because tomorrow
you’ll be back
so you may as well
leave it all be
climb up a tree
and make your own threats

the trouble, once stirred, is absent now
the sun is falling from its sleeves
the gauges we have are unreliable
and I think that’s the sound of trouble again
it couldn’t last, it wouldn’t
but that doesn’t mean
my eyes aren’t green
my skin isn’t soft
my lips aren’t dry
but that doesn’t mean
my angles are worn and rounded slightly
because, brother, sister, other, they’re not

June 6, 2000