last night on Free Credit check.com
it was as they said free, for me.
I awaited my number to appear,
a red warning light flashed
the page locked up
and kept me there
like an infested **** site does, I have heard,
when you search for free anything,
then in large case letters
this site said , because of me ,
they have lowered the credit ratings of every
lender that loaned me a dime.
I had to reboot my computer
and sign on in another name,
and
change my ssn#
and my phone number, again!
The phone rang all night.
My cat knocked it off the hook,
I swear.

Neither table nor tide has turned.
The worm sits still.
Perhaps autumn will wane forever.
Fate has an ace up her sleeve, I'm sure,
since she's a cheating *****
who won't show her cards
even on the big blinds.
On these long, cold nights
the breath of the devil
Smells like coal-fired power and retail transactions.
Click here for free expedited shipping
if you're willing to breath the diesel fumes
pouring out of the Wilcox Tunnel
like cordite discharge from a gun barrel.
**** it.
I still love ice cold Coca Cola Classic
with its pretty can as red as
the blood of Christ.

Soon the Dogwoods will bloom, and
bring one last gasp;
A eulogy for winter-
a final little bit of cold remembrance
for our unwashed faces.

Summer is for a different song. Brand new wrongs,
slick fingers and
a sunnier side of sin. The good kind.
Twixt those sweaty inner thighs
hides a secret worth savoring; a secret worth harboring.
Salvation is warm and...
I digress.

In the interim lies spring,
when we debate the merits of
crucifixion and/or fertility.
Around here, crucifixion wins since
we love a good ******
more than a good ****.
Who am I to argue?

So we wait for
something different.
Breath bated -
anxiously anticipating change
with a hitch in our collective chest.

That change will come but
not before the blackberries have had their say.

Your laugh.
The big one.
The loud one.
The "I'm at home laugh."

Not the quiet, public laugh;
the polite titter for
dinner with aquantances.

I want the big throated, down deep laugh.

I want your breathless whispers against my neck.

I want one of those hugs you give me when you mean it. The desperate embrace.

I want minutes. All of them... to soak up the seconds as the thirsty are nourished by dewdrops.

I will love all of the sadness and uncertainy  and anxiety.
These are minutes too.
I wish I'd been better, sooner.

I've loved you so much for so long it feels like all of the love that ever was
Over the course
Of forever.

I love you so much that I wish I had a unique word.
A language singularity
that was only for you.
A word that I didn't have to share with shampoo commercials and free lunches and other people.

I (_) you with all my heart. Know that. On this, the fakest of all holidays,
Tha one that you hate the most,
Please know that I ( ) you.