an intercourse

smiling inward thinking
of all definitions for romantic
or
what romantic means in a moment, so
let the mind wander
as it does
rmb’ring what that was when
was younger
-to an older more settled
tired self

funny
guess ill take sm’eat out the freezer
pull the good dishes down&

attempt to lazy spaghetti winebottle

© Emerys Watchel, 2020 All rights reserved.

formulae for time

the worst of it
is the going, after
&a transplant
retain’d memories with
of
left-behind limbs

testament to struggle

find me now this vial!
slender trapping
to dispel
&
be otherwise dispossessed
externality

not withering, will be
or a fading such
&
lengthening of night
no.

it will be we”
sat in the drum
upbraiding racket

caught by the cookie-jar
insane-ly
&
irrelevant
going before

© Emerys Watchel, 2019 All rights reserved.

triumph

every odyssey begins with
an idea of Self; golden’d in final aquisition
of that so-desired object

spurred by curiosity’s guile,
and rudderless whim, or bitten
by pangs of longing

,or either; adventure’s
thrust upon the unwilling, or contented
to a folly of mischief

in either event a prevailing thought
will emerge
that of home, or of glory

it is not God(or Gods)that reward
this tenacity

it is with tenebral persistence that we
shape dream out of failure

© Emerys Watchel, 2019 All rights reserved.

abuse

is as i have suspected
:an interruption,a
course correction”
love- even when well-meant is
it would hurt
me
to see you (fumble&stumble about
so.much.so that i must
interject myself into your
logical spheres
tying unconnected ends together&
sweeping up unnecessaries

) )there)

all is arranged according to my
designimperfect
listen, beloved

© Emerys Watchel, 2019 All rights reserved.

in Saddletown looking for a Horse

where i find my mind
this morning wandering through the amble
of what’s to come
of moments that build a day
the narrative in these domes internal
peaking at decision
without plot
,or function
i’ll take down the old books
reread the winsome losesome waged betwixt
good and evil compromises
as it always has
when all the all
dead unions held a calvary line against
feeling
that my time has come and gone

but i will light a candle
say a prayer that need should still
exist

© Emerys Watchel, 2019 All rights reserved.

Rubble Town Still

M,
across the prairie, snow is blowing
like a wave
wind beyond the cottager homes set
glowing
in their huddle
town, aglister with the busy-crunch of plod
a plume of whinnying engines
sky dusky velvet
chipper enforcement officers test benevolence
on ditch-bound potatoes
in tow truck paradise
an exhausted unemployment line waits
outside
mail carriers, late
for the weather
all of the grisly chatter imaginable
at FoodBank twenty-blocks in the wrong direction
carrying
offbrand vegetable tins
over a desolate bridge

© Emerys Watchel, 2019 All rights reserved.

&

because the essence of human existence
should be liquified in metaphor
that
Time’s immutable drum be deafened
song and story be

and language

© Emerys Watchel, 2019 All rights reserved.