Animals living in the Palace


The Palace

Have you ever seen
a palace fall?
The columns crack,
the sky high windows fall to the ground,
and the roof full of gold
right on in like
a crumpled paper plane.
It used to be so beautiful and then
I saw
what it was really made of.
Every king has a reign,
the beach is just
grain upon grain.
Perfect is what it used to be,
it was what I thought
until my thoughts changed-quickly-the way you don’t feel
the cut of a broken seashell
until it slices your foot mid-step.
The surprise of blood
and pain.
His and hers power couple
that was never
meant to be.
The blonde haired blue eyed spitfire, beside her
suit and tie Tim McGraw.
It was as if
all the shattered glass
had been swept under the rug.
The crunch of brokenness
beneath every step,
digging in deeper and deeper.
The talk shallower and shallower,
because the beach isn’t the beach
anymore but the place
where ashes sleep.

The beach is where you find
the ocean.
They’re together but not.
Is that sad? Something so close,
touching even but not ever
really together.
No not sad, not at all, instead it’s
perfectly parallel
as they were created to be.
The scale of life should not ever
be altered.
Balance exists for
good reason.
Reason not suitable for
mere mortal questioning.
If the sand chose to
slide into the water,
the ocean would cloud with dirt
and things would die.
If the ocean chose to
crash onto the land,
there would be no where to sit and
peacefully watch
the waves because we’d all be
trying not to drown.
Perfectly parallel
together, but not too close.
That’s how it’s
meant to be.
When the palace falls
that’s not sad.
What’s sad is that,
a thing like that was not
supposed to be built
in the first place.



Animal Kingdom

She’s like that one monkey,
that baboon from the word’s best
childhood film.
Not one wrinkle
and the world’s best
gray hair.
He’s like this sloth now,
a sloth that used to be
a lion.
I guess the pride
wore him down.
What was once a roar of
is now grumbles
of inebriated nonsense.
A majestic stride
reduced to
hardly waking from his slumber.
Funny how
things work in the
animal kingdom.

The wide eyes of an owl that are
anything but wise,
those eyes are there to
watch and stare and wait
for an opportunity to
swoop and grab.
She’d circle for hours just to pick
the bones of the dead.
A chameleon in the trees
changing colors to please.
Looking in every direction
for what it needs.
Funny how
things work in the
animal kingdom.

The little tornado
of a Tasmanian Devil.
Incorrigible beast.
Hardly caged by
fragile and frail
Locked in results in
freak out
The result of those who
breed in greed.
Funny how
things work in the
animal kingdom.

A careful touch over the arm,
nails grow and extend
and then the claws appear.
That sunshine stare he gives her
becomes a midnight glare.
Their laughter swirls
into a howling rhythm.
One, two, three vodka Martinis
do nothing to wash out
the snarls
that creep past curling lips.
Smiles morph into broad grins, they have fangs now,
noses pointed up
in the search for blood.
Finally, the grass parts
for the path of a
slithering snake.
The wool begins to melt away,
the serpent, done plotting,
sticks out it’s split tongue.
Doubting; “did God really say?”
Where there was white
there is gray, and
an ear there
sharp and pointed.
I guess it’s true,
there is no flock for me to be a
Shepherd too because,
I’m at the table
with wolves.

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