​I. A Light in the Dark

The light switch turns on
And shadows flee through the chimney,
On their way to whatever other dark night they can find
To haunt the infirm.
Here though we can see the ancient portraits on the wall
Of kings and queens centuries gone.
Forgetting the radical,
We desperately scribble out an index
To the catalogue of souls.

II. The Accidental Masochist

I unintentionally strike myself across the wrist
With the switchblade stored in my boot
While trying to slice tomatoes for a salad.
"This is it," I conclude.
"This is the gory conclusion to a life
Spent narrowly avoiding the quicksand
That has chased me across the desert."
Should a tourniquet appear,
I would surely toss it away in disdain
And instead allow a hemorrhage to do what it will.

III. Power Outage

One stumbles around in the dark.
What might make its apparition tonight
Among antique cabinets and tables,
Coming out of its hiding spot in the old grandfather clock?
Without a light, all logic fades
And all syllogisms crumble.
One closes the book one last time
With the hope that love might live on
Even when plumes are withered into dust.
How improbable a last gasp,
But what else could one ask for
On such a desperate night as this?