The American Legion meets in the parish hall
Third Tuesday every month (missed you last time)
Old men in funny hats saluting the flag
And then again re-living AIT

Their perimeter shrinks as children rehearse
Their songs and dances for tomorrow night
In honor of Nuestra Senora -
With Juan Diego’s tilma She blesses the Americas

In a classroom across the way the AA
Are fighting their dragons as manfully
As good Saint George, and so in very truth
They are fighting dragons for all of us

This is Our Lady’s cocina, open to all:
Everybody meets in the parish hall

bad poems
are like children:
abundant and
abundantly
annoying,
but unlike kids,
bad poems
never die.

In a

half breath

of this

moment

lying next

to you,

I have

felt more

than I

ever have

in my life.


the brushing

of my

hand through

the back

of your

angel hair,


the sleeping

of my dreams

while

lying next

to you,


then waking

up and seeing

them all

come true

in your

eyes.


and I kiss

you forever,

under broken

falling stars,


and give

you promises

to keep

deep inside

your heart.


to care

for us

and smiles

that only

we share

and laughter

that only we

hear early

under  pristine

light.


where angels

lay,

and where

after  the

still black

night I

always

reach

to make

love to

you...

I love you.