missing girl

early detection of the hope i cannot have
leaves me unhinged
in the quiet of the morning
backed into a corner waiting
i realize

the blue devils themselves have their own eyes
and verbiage, too,
to take me to far off places
like unsuspecting gas stations
or bathrooms in the middle of the ballroom

i should retire
but these thoughts just like my ghosts
don’t like to dance unless i’m a partner
to a myriad of moves that leave me tired

leave me tired leave me be let all the rest
of these odd things
just run their course
i can’t relax

memories and photoed dreams and taffy colored beauty queens
still tease me in my sleep

there is nothing left to say
the missing child’s lost her way
and there’s no one left
and no one right
to point her north or west
or east or south

just a few dead soldiers being routed home
holding eclipsed signs that read
“you’re not alone”
blowing kisses to her stranded on the road