pubescent love,
like the love between
the otherwise married,
creates leaves of wilting poetry
curling crisp for the oncoming
winter
winter of our discontent
but not literature
not the song of the bards
just the whimpers
of the wounded.
Only the love of would-have-been strangers
bound like the living
to a corpse
an albatross formed
from naive hopes
produces music.
Jan 8, 2013
Jan 8, 2013 at 11:35 PM UTC
a step to truth
where she tells him
that her dance card’s
been full many times over
with experiments in heartbreaking
and he, a dip
and a sore heel for not being first
the little verbal twirls
he does
to step to truth
with trepidation and inadequacies—
no one knows who should lead
Jan 8, 2013
Jan 8, 2013 at 9:37 PM UTC
she said the movie was scery
then he said
it’s SCARY
rabbits scurry
there’s a difference, you know
and in another
little way
he stole her
Jan 8, 2013
Jan 8, 2013 at 9:36 PM UTC
if i had
that one little
moment back
between the passion
and the abandon
if I could hold it tight
under glass
examine it with prods
and slices
i’d finally know
if it was my best
moment
or my
worst
Jan 8, 2013
Jan 8, 2013 at 9:34 PM UTC
in Chicago?
We came dressed for
Florida in January,
drank till the headlights
blurred into long
lines of lightening,
did lines of *******
with a **********
from Ohio, ate
steak and eggs
for breakfast.
You were bright
and hot as streetlights
on Clark Street.
In a compact car
we contorted ourselves
to steam the windows.
Then we went home
and broke up
because our fantasy life
was better
than our real one.
Jan 8, 2013
Jan 8, 2013 at 9:33 PM UTC
he didn’t say much—
the thinking type
i suppose—
but every once in a while
he’d click a
little northern turn
of phrase—
rabbit quick
fox sly
and a little bit like
a Jersey Buddha
Jan 8, 2013
Jan 8, 2013 at 9:32 PM UTC
I’m too old
too slow
too weak
to win the race
or take the prize.
What I lack
in beauty
or in grace
I make up for
in compromise.
Jan 8, 2013
Jan 8, 2013 at 9:32 PM UTC
sometimes you just
Don’t
want to think of it
anymore,
—you know?
but it keeps comin’,
like you’re in an
ocean or a toilet
or any sort of place
where you can do nothin’ but drown.
and it’s the same
for all
of us
whether we’re drowin’
or burnin’, freezn’, or bein’ crushed…
—it’s the same
ya see?
and it keeps comin’
even when we don’t want
to think about it.
so just let it come…
like a stinging wave,
or a sunburn,
pin ******
or pressure…
and let it go.
Because that’s how
it is, sometimes,
for all of us.
Jan 8, 2013
Jan 8, 2013 at 9:31 PM UTC
I lost a battle
when I was hiding
with you—
casualties made way
for false saviors,
sweet lovers—
*** and snow,
that froze the pain.
You never said no—
not ever
not once
to me.
—A butterfly emerges
without permissions—
you might have said
(if you had said
anything at all).
You were that type—
that wide river,
that spanning branch
—a zen koan wrapped
in flesh
One fall evening
I stumbled through
the roses,
was bitten by the thorns
came clattering in,
fell limp on the
corduroy cushions.
You smiled,
always smiling—
serene like the Dali Lama
or some other
bullshit
you never said
anything—
till you did.
And when you spoke
I heard
the truth of it
the truth of it
the horrible truth of it
thank you
Jan 8, 2013
Jan 8, 2013 at 9:30 PM UTC
………………………………..A transmission to my son:
sometimes i can catch
a
glimpse of you
through the
slipstream
our galaxies al-
most
align
THEN we can both Hear and See and SPEAK! The super-nova brilliancy of it is…
.
.
.
everything.
those
moments
so
precious
i
i must
i must
(just breath, just breath)
…please
Jan 8, 2013
Jan 8, 2013 at 9:29 PM UTC