I hear a voice call out, it wants something new

It's been a while since a post has come along. But I've been busy. Vacationing in Mexico with the family, thinking about math, thinking about Japan, trying to find a lady that isn't too crazy (keep trying), saying hello to strangers in the dark.

But you don't respond anymore. You all just ignore it as if it never mattered. But it does, and it will as the days pass. I've only got about 4 more months before I leave.



All Told
by Dean Young

News of her death
comes obscured with radiance
as if delivered by God's messenger.
The heart struggles with depictions,
scarves fly from her mouth
as the car hits the tree at 70.
For hours, content just lies there,
a butterfly smashed in a dictionary.
Phantom cauldrons pour molten leads
through the air. There is a narrowing,
a soaking with fiercer color.
God puts everything on the anvil.
A definition is a sorry thing but
we will all be redefined. Someone
cuts the stems of lilies
for a shallow vase. Someone else
comes home, wet from walking in the fog.