A WORKMAN MORNING

the moment

i spend 

with 

the
four
mismatched
mugs

on a patterned plastic tray

for the early bird workmen

who park up their machines
& laugh at the heaving clouds

is some kind of something

is a place of grace & space

& the winter mild 

coming in 

the open kitchen door

is

like

a

lullaby

for a cartoon bear

& the only darkness

is the december sky

& no ones fault 

no ones fault at all

AGOG AT THE HIGHWAY

look the febrile universe
in its indifferent & piebald eye

like the ants we are

agog at the highways

pandemonium & alchemy 

& carry on carry on 

toiling in the cordovan soil 

we have worked

& poisoned

& paved 

smiling in the mad grace
we demanded of it

& 

weeping of it

the same

GUNS BEFORE BREAKFAST

the things i see
before breakfast

online on social apps
on my phone in my hand

snuff & lies

& grace between bile

& a little girl

eight or nine or ten
firing two pistols 

at the same time

two fingers needed 

on each trigger
& she empties one 

before the other
& she discards it 

with a glance
like a kindergarten john wick
calm concentration on her face

& she really is doing it well
& who is behind the camera ?

TO A CRITICAL MASS

but too tho the silence

the dense & concrete silence

well it makes gains up around your chair

like its building to a critical mass

& it 

could be
what some
would use
the word
g r a c e 

about

just not me not yet

i call it a screaming pause

PILL BOX POP No87

 

collect doubt with grace

& pretend its a plan

this is often untried

hold on each day

to your authentic breath 

to your wonder heart

to your fear of crazy ideas

to that tight

unknown presence

you are likely a work of art

 

love you

 

MIRROR GLIMPSE MANIPULATION

these corner-eye
&
then wide-eye
mirror glimpses

theres no 
dorian gray
in there

my grandfathers gut & hairline
sneaked in
while 
i 
was 
endurance testing the sofa

keep on keeping on
why-not regardless 
& 
whatever deluded

mirror now
is
my
squinted mists of grace

from michellehenry.fr