Thomas Aidan Hiscock – Mussel Cove, Falmouth, Maine – 2025

***

The Seamstress

I remember feeling old

before I knew what time was… 

And as age wore on, I began to feel 

infinite… 

not permanent, no — but threadbare, 

searching for an 

answer…

————————————————————————————–

When ‘alone’ is empty, but

‘empty’ is anything but alone…

Gnawing the seconds 

like a nervous lover…

Flowers in hand, 

I cave, divorced from each moment…

Wisdom goes beyond years, but if not

years, we only have pain

And pain has held my hand 

through fire… 

And flame

————————————————————————————–

The Marionette 

I left this body long ago, 

fleeing to safer shores 

Estranged, dragging these 

broken bones through

cities of my past —

The marionette wanders on… 

speaking to the world 

as little as he speaks to 

himself…

————————————————————————————–

87 

if blood burned like gasoline,

i would fill my tank to the brim,

just to get high off the thrill

    of running in place 

if blood burned like gasoline, i would 

set myself on fire, glad  

this life of mine was nothing more than

white-hot anger

if blood burned like gasoline, then maybe i 

could have kept pace, unburdened by dirt  

and disease… 

if blood burned like gasoline

    then maybe… just fucking maybe 

i would see something other than failure 

in cobwebs and cracked

mirrors… in basements… 

in hallways… in hell… and in homes… 

… and I would beg for my Mother’s forgiveness if she ever

found out I pray to God 

to leave this body behind

and become a

Prince of Ash… 

if blood burned like gasoline, 

then maybe i would be worth a damn…