Alaskan Reduction With Red Wine (2015)

A piano takes up sky diving rather unexpectedly.
Understandably vexed by the whole situation,
it’s doing its best to get your attention.

But not before the concrete plays that final chord.

                                                   creaking leather ‘n mistin’ breath,
                                                   the exertion burn ain’t improved by the cold,
                                                   ‘n the sun’s setting fast as it will.

                                     Favorite scene in that too long nap-pic, Gladiator,
                                     sepia tinged, dust covered, hands running–
                                     gliding through wave after wave of wheat.

                                                    ol’ Jack’s got his tongue a lollin’,
                                                    breath-clouds just as thick as mine.
                                                    But his ears deserve their scrachin’
                                                    ‘n idle hands ain’t one to break bargains.

Amber sunlight has that guilt free g
                                                         l
                                                            i
                                                                 s
                                                               t
                                                                    e
                                                                       not that I remember.
Ain’t like pianos have any sort of predilection for sky-diving,
it’s just that fate made some promises,
called in some favors,
‘n what’ll be ’ll be.

                                 not that I remember.

wicked ivory teeth loll in a most malicious fashion,
imtimidating several infants and elderly folk.
The office of the Piano Movers Union launched a full inquery,
found that it weren’t the explosion of impact that scared ’em most,
but how evil the piano looked,
all splayed ‘n spread ‘cross pavement.

not that I remember.

                                              Jack’s got some puppy stuck in his bones,
                                              ‘n the run’s caught up with him
                                              as home creeps up that horizon,
                                              you standing doorway,
                                              wind-tossed hair flicking ‘cross your face.
                                              Damn dog likes you better than me.

But summer’s startin’ to scent on the wind,
           love,
‘n ain’t that something.

“Honestly, it was only a matter of time,
I mean,
It’s still a surprise.
We did everything in our power to prevent it
but these things happen.”

These things happen,
not that I remember.

                                             But then, he’s got good taste,
                                                         love.

Autumn is my least favorite month,
all them molds ‘n dead leave spores.
Wreck me every time.
But when we build this home,
I built our library overlooking that g
                                                         l
                                                      i
                                                          s
                                                    t
                                                n
                                                     i
                                                 g
                                                       stream.
I stand in the doorway,
sunset ’til twilight, sometimes,
watching the sunlight turn you ethereal
while you wander distant worlds.

Turns out,
in the end,
the piano was wanted for murder,
and I love you.
Not that I remember,
but these things happen.

V - Scroll - V