Stone Soup Croutons, 4-11-16, Dressing Down

Stone Soup Croutons is a weekly poem I write using lines and impressions picked up from poems overheard from Stone Soup's open mic readers and features. I figure out a title either then or later. It's likely some of the poets I thank at the end won't even be able to figure out which lines were inspired by their work. To paraphrase Lorne Michaels, the poem doesn't go up because it's good; it goes up because it's Tuesday morning. This poem doesn't count towards the National Poetry Writing Month 30 poems in 30 days challenge. Because I'm a moron.

Valerie Loveland was featured last night after a short but sweet open mic.

Dressing Down

It's only when  you stop crying
that the silverfish crawl
back into the tub drain

dreaming of turning into
real fish in what moonlight comes
through the window.

Nobody to impress anymore
outside this corner
of your multiverse,

None that you hear of anyway.
Heaven's not out of your reach
so long as someone
finds  you adorable

in your broken home
unable to hide anymore,
only disintegration
able to strip you down further.

Your hands search for pockets
you can't possibly have.

There's no choice
but to stand upright.

The accumulated albatrosses
that hung around your neck
are gone.

To lose everything gives you
a secret gift, an unseen pocket
you'd best not search for
and tip your hand,
bring your body back down. 

Your empty hands need nothing to hold.

Not shown: DiDi Delgado, who helped with the closer.

Special thanks to Rachael Eisenberg, Erik Nelson, Billie, Deborah Priestly, Jonathan J. Joseph, Martha Boss, Dexter, Big Poppa Ben , Andrew, Valerie Loveland and DiDi Delgado.