Poems, etc.

dreams as brittle as glass. or maybe it’s me: thin and fragile,  leaning hard into my memory’s windowpane. you and i  are out by the pool, counting stars. my heart’s a chlorine-soaked pearl. you turn to whisper in my ear but i can’t hear thing from where i am. where you are.  you look so old, so much older than you should be. your lips on my ear tickle like tall grass; fog snaking between pool  chairs. fog of my breath distorting our already far away bodies.

A boy, struck by his reflection In the eyes of a bleeding Dog, leans over his handlebars to Watch the poor thing die. In every Mirror, not just this one, he  Sees his father. And, canine-like In his longing he comes to The study door with scraps of Boyhood, bile, his impossible adolescent loneliness; nothing a Father would care for. Tonight, just Like every night, he will wait And read the books left out on The desk. Search for a poem or A line that tells him what to make Of