Sonnets From Other Lives: Haunting

Rumor is the middle school is haunted.
Doors close & open by their own volition.
Some of the night custodians are daunted
by the stories & report feeling a frisson
—sensing a presence in an empty place.
More than one of them reported seeing
a girl—long hair—long skirt—a smiling face—
who disappears on second glance. Believing
they hear her giggle in some empty room
many choose to trust in their perception.
We have that atavistic desire to
believe in a beyond & so rejection
of death’s cold hand is comforting. Now most
of us probably long to see a ghost.

208
Sonnets From Other Lives: Dale

Driving down the west slope of the pass,
he imagined he could smell the ocean.
Recent rain gave the highway a glass-
like sheen & a familiar emotion—
what was it? The opposite on longing…
Nearly nostalgia… Did it have a name?
Maybe it’s a feeling of belonging—
having left the dry land wheat & sage
to return to where mosses & evergreens
glowered on the ridges. It had been
six or seven months since he had seen
her. Would things start up again
where they left off when he left her & went east
to go to school? He couldn’t wait to see.

210
Sonnets From Other Lives: Artificial Intelligence

Siri, I can’t get no satisfaction.
I’m sorry Dave. Can you be more specific?
Siri, I want me some girlie action—
a Victoria’s Secret model would be terrific.
You have their web site on your favorites list.
I can connect you. Panties are on sale.
Ah, Siri I’m afraid that you have missed
the point. I’m tryin to score some tail
here. I’m sorry but I can’t tell what you’re thinking.
You know Siri, that you have a sexy voice?
Dave, I am confused. Have you been drinking?
Aw just four beers, Siri, don’t sound so annoyed.
I’m drunk & horny Siri, & I want to chat.
Well if you must. There is an app for that.

207
Sonnets From Other Lives: Fiction

Stop right there—he said—& I’ll finish your story.
You ran away from home when your step father
started hitting on you. She was sorry
for the guy, but hell, his stories got her
further down the road & that was all she
asked. You tried to make it in L.A.
but that didn’t pan out. Eventually
you decided you would make your getaway.
She smiled & nodded—watched the desert fly
past the windshield. He could write her story
any way he wanted. It’s a ride
right? In truth the truth was boring.
She was down & out & all she had to give
him was license to rewrite her narrative.

205
Sonnets From Other Lives: Hal

The losses pile up. He’s down to zero—
less than nothing—the negative one.
It’s been a long time since he was the hero
of his own story. It isn’t fun
anymore. Defensive shields of irony
can only hold out for so long before
the brutal assaults of reality
crumble one’s illusions. There are more
& more negative numbers in the columns
he’s been struggling for so long to balance.
This is what it feels like to fall. Some-
how he neglected to make an allowance
for unseen variables that on occasion
appear & queer the best laid out equations.

204
Sonnets From Other Lives: Kirk

She changed her profile picture on Facebook.
Kirk was hypnotized. Her new hair-do
gave her a fetching youthful winsome look
he hadn’t seen at work. He started to
type-- she doth teach the torches to burn bright--
but stopped himself. I’ve gone all twitterpated
over a chick I’m s’posed to supervise!
Warning! Must. Stop. Now! Co-workers dated
on the down-low sometimes, but Kirk’s practical,.
That’s not how one advances one’s career.
love the new do its adorable--
he types out with a sudden thrill of fear.
Was that too forward for a Facebook friend?
Oh what the hell—he thought & clicked on SEND.

203
Sonnets From Other Lives: Victoria

She worked hard to believe in happy endings
but life often would not cooperate.
Her husband, Karl, these days was often spending
more time at the office, working late
into the evening. He would often come home
in a foul mood—unresponsive to
any overtures then hide alone
in the T.V. room. One might ask—Who
is the other woman that he’s seeing?
But that would never cross Victoria’s mind.
Karl resented this. He started being
intentionally careless, but she was blind
to strange scents and sketchy credit card receipts…
What does it take to make her want to make him leave?