Dean Faulwell

3 poems

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Water Follows Me Everywhere


The mirrored desert may
hold the answer, albeit
the wrong one, the one
that's a word to the wise,
but not the secret key to why
we dwell. Shadows
drift past me on their way
to an impression I have
of someone waiting behind
a door that, if opened,
will reveal the end of me.

**

Television


No sense knowing
what doesn't exist
except for the
pure hell of it.
Embrace what's gone
before it gets here
as if it were air
on its way to wind.
Move into a house
that will never be built
and fall asleep
watching television.

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A Truth


Desire's sharp edge
turns holy in the distance.
That's what early is
by dreaming,
old words
rehearsing the logic
senility takes refuge in.
The skin of a verb
may slip out of time
to polish the noun
it dreams of.
If you hear it,
you will hear it from me.
It's the only
word in my mouth.

**

return to sawbuck 2.3

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Dean Faulwell's poems have appeared in dozens of publications over the years, with recent appearances in Sawbuck, Midway Journal and The Alembic. A book of poems, Water Follows Me Everywhere, is looking for a publisher.