and I sang goodbye
beneath a blood red sun
and whistled farewell
to empty halls

cicadas buzzed
goodnight

and for a moment
all was not well

but it passed
like all things under the sun
as I turned away.

I know it sounds silly
but you should know
that when I can’t bring myself
to look you in the eyes
it’s only because
I’m afraid I might kiss you

but you mean so very much more
than the fact that you’re beautiful
you’re worth so much beyond
me sitting with you on this beach
rubbing your back, keeping you warm
you deserve more than these five days

I breathed deeply when we were talking
trying to take as much of the night air
my brain working double time to hold me in place
I wanted to turn to you and ask you to run with me
how far would we get, before we turned back?
before my petty fears overtook us
before the tide became too strong

I want to have strength
yet you smile, and I am weakened
you move close to me
and my defenses fall in an instant

I could just wander around
for hours or days
lost in your eyes
dreaming
wishing

but I can’t
I’m leaving
so soon

don’t read this last verse
because you told me not to be afraid

but I’m afraid that I’ll never know
what could have been
if only there was time.

the hardest part
of waking up
without you

is not the cold
nor the emptiness
or the absence
of your angelic scent

it’s just that
the simple knowledge
that two thousand miles
is actually enough
to pull my hands from
your skin, and separate
my lips from yours
is difficult to endure

missing you isn’t so bad
it’s not coming back to you
that keeps me hurting
when I hear your voice
and my heart leaps, in vain

I think you visited me
in my dreams, because
when I woke I found
your scent in the air,
the familiarity of it
stinging my nostrils
and eyes.

I need to be serenaded
by a guitar overdriven
into distorted bliss,
there's something
so uplifting
in the crunch and fuzz.
Marc Bolan’s swagger
and funk infect me
and I giggle in delight

but even if the world
was about to be destroyed
I think I’d be too busy
looking at you
to do much about it

and the end of the world
wouldn’t be as exciting
as a fraction of a glance
from you, cast in my direction

all of the stars colliding
and the end of all life
would hardly hold my attention
and certainly not keep it from you

all of the movie stars
naked in my bed, in my head
they don’t even weigh in the balance,
negligible, like electrons, the world
nothing but a cloud of energy
that surrounds our nucleus

twisted trees tear at the horizon
the clear night of my soul
allows a few bright stars
to stab through the darkness
landing photons from a hundred years
into my retina, bipolar cells firing

the night comes without warning
and we are all lost, carrying torches
with which we manage only to burn our fingers

clothes fall away and we see one another
it is not a pretty thing to be alone
how then can we be so loved by One
who sees all things, witnesses our solitude
our anger, our frustration
hears the terrible things
which we whisper to the floorboards
when no one can hear us

as we emerge from the womb
screaming to life in the hands of a stranger
we come into this world the same way we leave it:
covered in blood.

Natura certo, quando lasciò l’arte
  di sí fatti animali, assai fé bene
    per tòrre tali essecutori a Marte.*


mankind, however, does not repent this sin
and continues, blindly, to forge the very tools
with which the earth will be wiped blank with fire

and with it gone, the words of Virgil, Homer, Dante
the greatest achievements of the hearts of men
undone in an instant by the greed of a few

the very earth cries out, and burns through the night
a light by which few souls are searched
although a light which, piercing and bright,
might reveal much to those who would gaze within

machines of death roll off assembly lines
and pass through the hands of many men
invariably finding their way, regrettably
into hands that will use them for their intended purpose:

the destruction of worlds.