Nothing

What do you say
When you’ve said it all before
When words regurgitate themselves
And life stumbles along in endless mockery?

What do you say
When the silence goes dumb
And the noise no longer makes sense
And the sadness still hasn’t managed to kill you?

What do you tell
The tables on the sidewalk
The uprooted lavender
Its weeping stinking the air?

What is there to say
But… nothing.

Circles

And so it goes again
Another circle
Just as round as the one before

In the Making

The sun was so bright in Cadiz it blanched everything into a silent anger.
They were walking ahead of me, figures drenched in white
And I could see the past in the making.

The night fell, heavy and sullen, on Los Caños.
And I resigned myself to potatoes and eggs
And ketchup with a taste of regret.

The forest stretched like the rest of my life, forbidding and haunted.
And in the back seat
They weighed on my mind.

And now it’s gone.
A moment so past
It almost never happened.

What do you frame when you see memory happening?
And what do leave in your head,
Trailing like a dead dog’s tail?