Three Poems by Walker Storz

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Ami

To help the
descendant of
madness who
does and does
not need your
help
who is
pondering
“how can one
be both
too near
and too far
and be repulsed
and attracted at
the same time”
Pierce the
clammy veil,
go to the
Garden, start
digging
there is sin
like a sickness,
deep, dig
deep, eat the
wretched grass,
eat the
dirt, a
small amount
of a
poison is
poison, a
large amount
is a
cure

Obliterate

Then start
anew, because
you cannot
bear to see
her face
again with
nothing
between you,
tear the
veil.
But these
things cannot
be done
carelessly
without
heart like
gleaming
marble. If
you fail,
you remain.
Your heart
was never
pure or
dirty
enough, you
mediocre
sinner, you
quotidian
failure

Mission St.

Here,
light and
heat are
inseparable,
animate,
animate
time

On each
adobe wall
the sun is painted
and cut,
edited
by arbiters of
desire

 

These words can
only cut voiceless
into the sphere,
smash against the
absence of walls

No need to hide
what you
mean, your
lens is only one

of many

But there is
a Great Lens
that bores into every
movement and gesture
and object,
reinscribing and saturating
them with an intensity

 

Here,
the sun bears
witness,
without comment
Lives unfurl,
faster than
buds opening

I continue to unfurl

The roses in these
vibrant lawns
glint carelessly

The freeway hums

In the approximate distance
the city throbs,
a muted roar

I’m sick with worry
that I can bury
on a
median strip
in a parking lot
somewhere north of
Long Beach,
along with the
toothbrush and can
of booze I
jettisoned

That particular
night, everything
converged and
had me,
helpless

I didn’t make it
to you, but
I guess I
made it

Love Note

L___
Your eyes were like
LCD screens,
flickering,
transmitting
at a frequency
that eluded
me

you were all
like the eloi–
the adept, the
beautiful careless
children of
technology and
sprawling wasteland
games

J___ had eyes like
poured concrete
His aura was
slate-grey–so
was yours

 

One night, I said
“I love
you”
and something
broke
inside
both of
us
We embraced
as if
leaning into
a storm

If I hadn’t
left then,
things could
be
different

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