New Lion My boat sunk in Mexico Disappeared as fast as I can record memory The emergency of lightening settled like smell in the dusty Plaza barefoot smoking in the doorway Sea lingers in the nostrils, rusty Running mad on the beach Bare feet burning Chewing on sand My eyes are salt exploding I take a moment squinting at the cracks in the concrete I cry out in the same way, Reporting to a page Kids in the street shout up at the moon Their exclamation points launch past the mission bells Ache trembles in their throats and punches the guts from the inside Severing the question mark in the bend of my bone I examine the edge of the door with my feet Let the ants struggle past Tilt my head east Drop its contents by two feet And drown in my chest Just forget it Dreams walk Nightmares quit after a while And snowflakes always melt Shift, Page down, Delete In houses, Schoolyards, Shopping malls, Trailer homes, In backyard lucid hangovers On tops of tables Kicking the dust from under my shoes Breaking into hurry Racing for the phone The doorknob Racing for my pen © Beula Daisle Beula Daisle does not like hiking, cooking or watching TV. She goes to shopping malls to listen. At some point in the past she divorced life, but learned to laugh, cry, feel, think and engage with it again.