A first draft

the happiness project

my tears run all over the linoleum floor

they spill over thresholds and window sills

and seep through cracks to the basement below

all griefs boiling

dissolving one into another

fire burn cauldron bubble

over heat stainless steel

unbonds

a bicycle bell,
chrome grill and trim find a sky blue cutlass to accessorize.

iron? thumping the line flat with sweet smelling starch.

and carbon, graphite--this poem.

a break-up done well, does that.

stainless steel doesn’t crack, cannot grow.

so how?

is it time passing?

is it a project? filling your life with friends and hiking and sailing lessons?

is it exercise and a rose garden?

daily meditation? a season of therapy?

is it joining okcupid

answering questions

messaging strangers

then coffee chemistry and falling in love

again?

tasting her breath? wine on her lips? the salt inside her thigh?

i think it is space

only

the possibility

between diffused atoms

a stance of mere willingness

(Prompted by the rune Inguz and Richard Ford's alloyed with loss.)