Elegant on paper
Neat dashes and swift punctuation
White-out applied so precisely
You likely didn’t even notice
That my hand shook infinitesimally
With every slamming heartbeat
—-
Hiding
Where I’ve rewritten my story
Yet again
-
-
Ecclesiastes and The Byrds
Ecclesiastes
and the Byrds
tell me there is a season
for all things
my season of crying
2 am away
with bruised under-eye circles
hopeless sobs
and next day zombie walks
turn turn turn
my season of spewing syllables
of righteous indignation
with cross shaped spears
aimed at your soft spots
forged and molded by hypocrisy
turn turn turn
your season of fear and hardness
snaking its way into the shape
of a lie
that screws itself
and multiplies
slithering dozens more
from between your lips
turn turn turn
our season of relief
rest and solace,
like a dove-
splitting the sky
and pouring down
into our hearts,
has arrived
reminding us of the only thing
that ever mattered:
the love we have never lost -
Stop, my dear
stop
what you’re doing, my dear
turn off the tv
or
close the book
or
grant the guitar strings sabbaticalstop
what you’re doing, my dear
and watch me
serenely
or
sleepily
falling in love
with you, my dear
under the sound of rain
and the smell of coffee -
a kind of defeat
your laughter is this tumbling breeze
pouring out from between your parted lips
slipping into me
wrapping around my heart
and dancing wickedly away its hardness
beating it into pulpy submission
and acceptance
that I have no other choice but
to bask in your laughter
and let it work its wonders
what a lovely
kind of defeat -
more of you always
you baptized me with your laughter like spring’s rain spilling warm into my ears and I knew you unlike I’d known him or her or them and your joy carried a seed and planted in my core a tree but one that won’t die no not with time or age or space but ever dig its roots deeper into my heart and burst its branches out of my mouth and ears and eyes so that all I speak and hear and see will bring you more into life with me and me more into life with you and now the baptismal fount spills over to nourish its thirsting branches with the same tenacity as before and it is ever you keeping yourself alive in me and myself alive in you as I hold myself open for more of you always
-
Irrational Irritability
I just want to smash
The shit out of some glass thing
Watch its world shatter -
Years Later
It’s not until years later that I look
at a tattered photograph
of your large lips
and sleepy eyes
that I realize how much
I did love you.Never in the explosive
I have to have every inch of you
way
which is what I missed so much then
but in the deep understanding
I know the details of your spirit
way
and now I remember
years laterthe gentleness of your voice
and the youth of your laughter
the way your face looked when you’d cried
the veins running boldly along your forearms
the way you made instruments sing
the length of your talented fingers
the way you wrote me music
and sang me songs
and painted me pictures
and composed me scribbled words
and words
and words
and words
that I have treasured and kept
sown in the lining
of my heartWe were soul mates
who weren’t meant to be
together
but I’ll never forget you
or entirely
let you go -
victory
her laughter falls
tossed off
like diamonds
bathing in sun-
streaks
peaking out
from the shadowed
wisps of grey
melancholic
clouds -
his kisses were muted whispers
weaving through my hair
and pouring down my neck
repeating with gentle insistence
i need you
i need you
i need you -
Get Them Just a Little Ugly
“Hey man, there she is. That’s my girl.”
“Bro, you’re hitting that? She looks like that chick from My Big Fat Greek Wedding before she gets hot.”
“Dude, you will never learn. The reason you never fuck the same girl twice is ‘cause you’re bored the second you’re done with them. Hell, you’re probably bored during. Those blondes with the big tits and the bleached smiles and the vapid minds that you limit yourself to are boring as fuck in bed. They just lie there, or make the fake-ass porn star noises they think they’re supposed to make on cue. They never had to work for it. Hell, most of ‘em probably lost their v cards in a cramped back seat, to some asshole jock like you who’s only ever fucked boring lays, which makes you boring lays which makes them boring lays. It’s a vicious cycle.”
“Shut up, dickweed. At least they’re hot.”
“So the fuck what? My girl there, she could lose about 20 pounds. And she could calm her hair down and get some contacts and clothes from this decade maybe. But let me tell you something. I don’t know if it was all the reading she did when she couldn’t get any as a teenager, or if she just has an imagination because she actually has a brain, but that chick is poetry in bed. The nerdy girls are the kinkiest, dude. I’m telling you…she makes your bland pursuits pathetic in their dullness. She is the best I’ve ever had and she fuckin’ rocks my world with something new each time we’re together. It actually makes me feel sorry for you, fishing for mediocre sex in the same tired bar scene every night. It’s just depressing. Get them just a little ugly, man. It’ll be the hottest you ever have.”
“…Hey dude, can we hit the library on the way home?”
-
Insomnia
i haven’t slept for so long
she said
as he poured salt
into his
coffee cupon the television,
Mitt Romney lies about something
as Obama rebuts with another lie,
an old man sighs at the cafe counter,
throws down the news paper and
stares at the two nonsleepers,
puts a five spot down and
walks outi haven’t slept for so long
he said
as she dunked her donut
into her
pepsioutside their window,
a cop pushes a black man
on the wrong side of town
into his car and frisks him
for going three over the
speed limiti haven’t slept for so long
she said
as he stuck the wrong
end of his cigarette
into his mouthwhile a single mother
texts her next john,
while her little baby
cries itself to sleep inside
a family diner, so close to
the american dream, yet
helpless at this timei haven’t slept for so long
he said
as she cut her finger
off with a butter knifei haven’t slept for so long,
they cry in unison,never having been awake,
either -
-
Appearances, darling.
Fingers spliced,
they soar,
slicing impediment and trial
on their way to future smiles.On to the impending now,
racing to the metal
of shining rings and coins
falling around them
in a rushed calypso.They dance in the crisp successes
of family and exotic work
travel and diplomas and benefits
and I sit.Staring at my cat
and feel like I’m wading
slow motion
through vaseline
and I want to weep.And I chuckle to myself
that with degrees
and travel
and an interesting jobI probably also appear
like I’ve got it together. -
The Calm After
And after the storm
Or perhaps during
But in the peaceful eye
We see a crossroads
Under our feet
As debris and dust settle
And we know with confidence
That together or separate
Our lives will settle
Like the dust
Neat and pleasant
Fine and good
To be swept with decent habit and fortuitous circumstance
But I pray instead in that instant
In the hush of the calm after
With the crossroads underfoot
That you take my hand
Or swing me over your shoulder
With a smile
And stir up dust underfoot
Forging and conceiving
A path of our own.
