to Michael Chabon, where ever you may be

adventure, misadventure

like all our great adventures, it began to fail as soon
as heel touched ground, toes pointed forward
our determination alone was a sliver of doom
awkward threads that refused to intertwine
but aren't we ever warriors? bold in execution
flawless with a keening wail toward triumph
until, of course, we start the race, push
ourselves away from a starting line beclouded
an imminent danger disguised

like my lovers, docile in their ambition
knowing without knowing that i'm a cause
too lightly undertaken, too fragile for a world
that lives and breathes, and sigh with their
understated aggravation, half perplexed, then
half bemused, plodding with a wonder of it all
they must believe too deeply in a thing
that speaks to hardier souls, gifted with
the possibilities of life

we keep some precious memories, not all entirely
true, constructed for the preservation of a friendship
blurred with misadventure, our great adventure
they're tithed in careful increments, swallowed
like a wafer from the hand of god, we keep them
as we hang above a chasm, dug spoon by spoon,
word by word, forgetting years entire, those unseemly
days, blustered through and unmanageable

how can i see myself clearly, or as you see me
a shape-shifter with miracle in hand
a promise-maker, carrying happiness and a future
on shoulders misaligned, or as a passion, some how
meant to bring fulfillment, to erase the void
but i can find deception where ever i can sit, rocking
in the sunset, stumbling toward the dawn, carrying
oddities that somehow find their home in the
stupor of my wake

like all our great adventures, bold princes hand in hand
shooting stars across some neon firmament, we careen,
the artful dodgers come to renew a pact we'd always
misunderstood, a mobile repository of trust, anticipation
destined to be as elusive as we ourselves, mad for glory
and it all began to fail, as soon as heel met ground, fist
was raised, as your eyes met mine and i could search
for the falling of the leaves, the passage of our summer
and the end to come