next supper

dinner called and tables set for nine
people came expected to be obliged to sit
and quaff an excess of red wine instead
a feast was found intense and deep

the seas parted and hands joined
as feet walked round the lives of children
the times of growing seeds in bathtubs
and parties where everyone had one guest
to invite but many more arrived
as word spread

nobody at eight but a hundred at nine
hand shakes and ice breaks smiles and
little chats on one side of the aisles
long hard stares on the other

the man who sat outside
excluded by smoke waved through the glass
his teeth lined up with the iron bars
although he could not hear you
he laughed at your jokes

the woman who knows him more than people
accept, growing up in large families
teaches you to observe the important tests

the lonely child swore the night was
a pocket of gold too hard and hot to hold
the jewelled dog that bit her hard
was able to roll apples down hallways
with accuracy

the risks that we take ignoring
passing of rows of children hands out begging
solace in disgust of those who own their own thrones

an old man suggests a path through the vines
the magi who call up notches on the door
and the vestige of sage advice
split the telling smiles of old whores
kept in the dark by the master of scrolls

allowing words only when we suppose its safe
but the lights never turn away
from the rat eggs we have lain
or the call of ice trees or the flowers of pain

common threads were found in a place
underground as the cards fall the eggs roll
the bets were made as tokens of grace
and the children sang in open applause
as they hang the clause makers
the sewing together of webs that
catch us makings the wrong beds and kicking
open closed doors the impressions we make
when turning our heads and the unease
that was caused by burning of old laws

and the guests peeled off as their eyes failed
to keep up with the conversation it found new
meaning in slowing down