Last Updated On February 26, 2019

 

 

 

Small Animal Prayers

I don’t mourn well in community,
But I do it pretty well curled up
Like a woolly bear

The small animal part of me hopes
that if I remain stalwart enough
If I maintain normalcy
And wrap myself in winter’s toughness

That somehow this will fool the universe into a cosmic shift
And we can just resume on a different timeline
Where Erica lives
As if nothing ever happened.

But what Erica told me
Is that perhaps,
I am just showing up for my life
The way she would
The way she did
In all weather
As best I can

Please please never stop talking to me.
As if I have ever had to ask her to keep talking.
###

Move In Day

She said it would take three days
Although she has always been optimistic about time.
But I believe her
Because I can feel her setting up shop in here.
Kicking shit out of the way like,
“Seriously Snyder?”
And laughing like Hell.
Making room for her long legs.

“Can you believe there are boots in heaven?!
Good ones, I’ll never have to send any back.”
###

The Proposition

I came in with an agenda.
I invited her to be my Venom.
Not venom poison, venom symbiote.
She’ll know this is a big deal because I generally don’t let people that close.
But I’m ready for this commitment.
I can’t bear to lose her.

How about you hop on this meat wagon?
Take the wheel.
I mean, honestly, I could use the help.

I’ve been highly focussed on integration.
Memories crop up in drips and drabs but I am more interested in solidifying our continued relationship.
I want to be proactive.
Like her.
Usually I am the teary one, backward glancing, overflowing my banks.
But not this time.

I am waiting for confirmation…
Is it in the woodpecker outside her window?
Is it in the water chimes on her table?
It takes time for me to remember that its not the same for her.
And perhaps there are no agreements after death.

While I am a grasping, aching, desperate hole-
She has popped the top on her corporal existence and is becoming a part of nature.
A force of which I always deemed her.

Integration is not a choice for her, but rather an eventuality.
As she nourishes Spring’s hairy tendrils
And billows from my tub’s heat
And spills with the particles of sunshine on my carpet
And moves amongst the vibrating molecules of the air I breathe.

But I think, just the same, I will keep my heart hospitable for her.
I’ll rig it up like the elaborate leprechaun traps we made with our children.
I just need to keep…
Need to hold…

She was buried in a celestial print dress.
A swaddled moon baby
On her way home.
###

 

Last Updated On February 26, 2019

 

 

Small Animal Prayers

I don’t mourn well in community,
But I do it pretty well curled up
Like a woolly bear

The small animal part of me hopes
that if I remain stalwart enough
If I maintain normalcy
And wrap myself in winter’s toughness

That somehow this will fool the universe into a cosmic shift
And we can just resume on a different timeline
Where Erica lives
As if nothing ever happened.

But what Erica told me
Is that perhaps,
I am just showing up for my life
The way she would
The way she did
In all weather
As best I can

Please please never stop talking to me.
As if I have ever had to ask her to keep talking.
###

Move In Day

She said it would take three days
Although she has always been optimistic about time.
But I believe her
Because I can feel her setting up shop in here.
Kicking shit out of the way like,
“Seriously Snyder?”
And laughing like Hell.
Making room for her long legs.

“Can you believe there are boots in heaven?!
Good ones, I’ll never have to send any back.”
###

The Proposition

I came in with an agenda.
I invited her to be my Venom.
Not venom poison, venom symbiote.
She’ll know this is a big deal because I generally don’t let people that close.
But I’m ready for this commitment.
I can’t bear to lose her.

How about you hop on this meat wagon?
Take the wheel.
I mean, honestly, I could use the help.

I’ve been highly focussed on integration.
Memories crop up in drips and drabs but I am more interested in solidifying our continued relationship.
I want to be proactive.
Like her.
Usually I am the teary one, backward glancing, overflowing my banks.
But not this time.

I am waiting for confirmation…
Is it in the woodpecker outside her window?
Is it in the water chimes on her table?
It takes time for me to remember that its not the same for her.
And perhaps there are no agreements after death.

While I am a grasping, aching, desperate hole-
She has popped the top on her corporal existence and is becoming a part of nature.
A force of which I always deemed her.

Integration is not a choice for her, but rather an eventuality.
As she nourishes Spring’s hairy tendrils
And billows from my tub’s heat
And spills with the particles of sunshine on my carpet
And moves amongst the vibrating molecules of the air I breathe.

But I think, just the same, I will keep my heart hospitable for her.
I’ll rig it up like the elaborate leprechaun traps we made with our children.
I just need to keep…
Need to hold…

She was buried in a celestial print dress.
A swaddled moon baby
On her way home.
###

Last Updated On February 26, 2019

Small Animal Prayers

I don’t mourn well in community,
But I do it pretty well curled up
Like a woolly bear

The small animal part of me hopes
that if I remain stalwart enough
If I maintain normalcy
And wrap myself in winter’s toughness

That somehow this will fool the universe into a cosmic shift
And we can just resume on a different timeline
Where Erica lives
As if nothing ever happened.

But what Erica told me
Is that perhaps,
I am just showing up for my life
The way she would
The way she did
In all weather
As best I can

Please please never stop talking to me.
As if I have ever had to ask her to keep talking.
###

Move In Day

She said it would take three days
Although she has always been optimistic about time.
But I believe her
Because I can feel her setting up shop in here.
Kicking shit out of the way like,
“Seriously Snyder?”
And laughing like Hell.
Making room for her long legs.

“Can you believe there are boots in heaven?!
Good ones, I’ll never have to send any back.”
###

The Proposition

I came in with an agenda.
I invited her to be my Venom.
Not venom poison, venom symbiote.
She’ll know this is a big deal because I generally don’t let people that close.
But I’m ready for this commitment.
I can’t bear to lose her.

How about you hop on this meat wagon?
Take the wheel.
I mean, honestly, I could use the help.

I’ve been highly focussed on integration.
Memories crop up in drips and drabs but I am more interested in solidifying our continued relationship.
I want to be proactive.
Like her.
Usually I am the teary one, backward glancing, overflowing my banks.
But not this time.

I am waiting for confirmation…
Is it in the woodpecker outside her window?
Is it in the water chimes on her table?
It takes time for me to remember that its not the same for her.
And perhaps there are no agreements after death.

While I am a grasping, aching, desperate hole-
She has popped the top on her corporal existence and is becoming a part of nature.
A force of which I always deemed her.

Integration is not a choice for her, but rather an eventuality.
As she nourishes Spring’s hairy tendrils
And billows from my tub’s heat
And spills with the particles of sunshine on my carpet
And moves amongst the vibrating molecules of the air I breathe.

But I think, just the same, I will keep my heart hospitable for her.
I’ll rig it up like the elaborate leprechaun traps we made with our children.
I just need to keep…
Need to hold…

She was buried in a celestial print dress.
A swaddled moon baby
On her way home.
###