September 2017 – R. Brookes McKenzie

lifeline

I’m sorry. I saw the drowning
look in your eyes – the one
I know so well from
the inside out, the one that says
everyone thinks everything
is fine but it’s not okay, I’m
not okay – and didn’t throw
you a lifeline. I know
how it feels to be the only one
in the room who’s holding
on to a grudge because it’s
been with you so long it feels
like a part of you, so that to
let it go would mean losing
something of your identity,
even though everyone else thinks
you’re punishing the person
for old dead deeds and why
can’t you just get over it
already. you can’t. you’re
not ready. you might not
ever be ready. and he doesn’t
deserve your forgiveness.

you warm yourself
by the fire of your hatred.
I know.

shatterglass

I’m not always so
fragile. but right now I’m
afraid of being dropped,
of shattering into a
million pieces and becoming
damaged goods, beyond
repair. handle yourself
with care when you feel
d
i
s
i
n
t
e
g
r
a
t
i
o
n
coming on like a storm,
like the chill wind
seeking out
all your cracks to
blow you into bits

maybe I’m trying to break
myself down so no
one else can do it
first, as if
controlling the
process might make it
OK
to not be
OK

this is the madness
talking, I
know. I know.
I knowwwwww. look, it’s
very simple. just
stop it. but words
don’t fix anything
ultimately.

even though
it’s also true
that

this,
too,
shall
pass

best friend

he says
you’re his best friend
and yet
he could not walk
ten feet to hear
your set. don’t
take it personally. it’s
not you, it’s him. he
cares about nothing
so much as his
unlovely, unloved self.

actually, that’s not fair.
I’m sure
his mother loves him.

unexpected pickles

I did it – I ate the pickles. they
were served with a dish I’ve
been enjoying lately but
I was afraid of them because
they didn’t seem to make sense
and I’m not really a huge fan
of dill pickles. but I had
been putting a lot of salt
on it and I suddenly wondered
if perhaps they were exactly
the flavor profile
that had been missing.
so I tried them, and they
were delicious. I guess
the chef knew what he was doing
after all.

that girl III

that’s her? that’s the girl
that’s been driving you crazy
for months? I must confess
I don’t really get it. she seems
kind of generic, in looks,
at least. if you ask me –
which you didn’t, I know – girls
of her ilk are a dime a dozen
in the Village, let alone
Brooklyn. well, either there’s
no accounting for taste, or
her personality is really special.
I hope she’s worth it
in the end.

house blessing

I didn’t psychically cleanse
your new home before
you moved in. I wasn’t sure
it needed it. I didn’t feel
any bad vibes. maybe they
didn’t notice me because
I wasn’t going to live there
full time. but now I hear
how you are beset with fears
and worries, some of which
I believe I can rid you of.

the space is not just a space,
it’s a repository of all the emotions
that were previously felt there.
if the prior inhabitants were anxious,
or quarreled a lot, or angry,
or depressed,
all of that psychic residue
remains behind when they
move out.

but these lingering spirits
are no match for me. I’ll
put out bowls of white vinegar
in every corner of every room
to soak up all the bad stuff
and then toss it out the front door
far into the street. I’ll smudge
with white sage and incense,
and tell all the things that bother you
to get out and stay out.
I’ll obtain dried herbs and
special waters, and wash your floors
to sweep away all the nasty things
that bug you. I’ll hang a horseshoe
twined with red ribbons
and evil eye charms
over your front door
so that no one even thinks
a bad thought in your direction.

I’ll weave a protective wall
of peace and harmony
to keep you and yours safe inside.
no one and no thing will dare
to try to get you
when I’ve worked my magic.
don’t worry, baby. I’ll fix it.