The keys have never lied to me;
They really only sing
Echoed notes to my favor:
Utmost passion, pain, pining.
Four worn walls of floral
Patterns once were vibrant.
Torn and tattered blossoms of
Pastels in alignment.

There is a view of the terrace,
But my song cannot be free.
The sill is chipped and window locked,
Sun’s outline halos, mockery.
My hands don’t shake across my board
Nor tremble ruined red lacquered.
Composing now my newest start
Arranging how I want to feel and
Fill my place with hopeless heart.

Serenade my soul, please,
Even with my mistruck keys.
The shadows grow so long here,
Dear, they always frighten me.
Dark hair turned amber gold,
Iridescent,
So I’m told.
But I’ve only love for which I cannot hold.

I do not play with another,
Lest they feel the need.
No one else can play the same;
My jumbled notes? Your misread.
Regardless of me all,
The dust collects around.
Yet shimmering like diamonds
As they catch the sunlit crown.
But silently they fall away,
Hiding faded footsteps where no one stayed.
And so I no longer wait for them;
Press the pedal yet again.
Find their portraits on the porch—
Mourning sound my keys had then.

I see you’ve gotten the old brass doorknob to finally let you in,
But you’ve disturbed the patterns on the water-damage within.
Come and sit beside me now on this wooden bench
Creaking gently through my chamber with no chance for French
Exit as you’ve entered now.
The warm light
Cascades on my
Ivory.
Touch on me your melody.
It may not ring as it once did,
But I shall share it as we wish.

I love the way the Earth sings your name
It's like the skies are slowly falling
On piano tiles
That even the deaf can hear.
So pure, so slowly killing and reviving souls
At the same time.

I love the way you play with the wind
Like a child who learns how to play guitar
Sometimes foolishly breaking the strings
Sometimes creating music
That cuts deeply into my soul.

I love the way snow settles on your eyelashes
And how your eyes turn into a Wonderland
Where I don't shrink nor I grow
I just turn into someone
Who perfectly fits
In your world.

She sang Hallelujah
I said Amen
sing it again
Sister
just like Leonard
in a voice
so light
and subtle
it could darken
dark eyes
and I will wear black
like a knight
who must compose
himself before day
breaks forever into
its weary fever.

and then somewhere
over a blues song
I can hear your voice
and I miss you,
my feelings, they get harder and harder to breath with
I am dying under some guitar strings
and I want you
and there is no desert that needs water
as much as I need  you.
you to be mine
to be mine

the anthem of my heart
sings a low melody
the chords crying
in pain
my soul is touched
my mind awakened
and i listen
     listen
        listen
as the crescendo
tickles my senses
and my pulse
keeps in tune
with the beat
of my heart
   quickening
leaving me breathless
       ecstatic
until the pessimistic downbeat
brings me back
slowly
   slowly
     slowly
to where
i started.

Harmony in the keys
Tap
Tap
Tapping
A melody that makes you sway
Washing over you
All of your aches will fade
You will go dancing away
Lighter than air
Without a care
As the tap
Tap
Tapping caresses your ears

It was the time of my Auntie Bee summers
   I was small then
   She had a parakeet that landed on my head
   and a bathtub too
   with water so deep!
   and legs and claws!
   **** thing nearly chased me down the stairs!

She lived in slumbery Windsor Locks
   where bugs hung-out in the haze
   of teenage August
   I played in the tall weeds
   with a shoeless Italian boy
   who ate tomatoes like apples
   and cucumbers right off the vine!
   He was ***** free and foreign!
   We played— reckless, abandoned
   behind the gas pump, under the tractor, in the barn   
   and through the endless fields
   I didn’t know....
   His name was Tony
   I ate pizza with him—the first time

At Auntie Bee’s I had to go to bed at eight
   but I could watch night flowers
   bloom on wallpaper
   She came in to say good night
   slippered, shadowy, night dress slightly open
   and I peeped her *******!
   like Tony’s cucumbers!
   I had never seen my mother’s wonders....

Night spread its wings from the old fan—
   a bird of tireless exhaustion
   whipped, whipped, whipped to death in its cage
   tireless exhaustion
   tic-tocking in time to a wind-up clock
   stretched out on the whine
   of the overland trucks
   Route Five through the night of an open window

In the grape arbor below—
tremulous incessant
   crickets    crickets    crickets
tremulous incessant—insides of a child
   a summer child
   not yet ready for the fall of answers

Auntie Bee had a daughter—Maureen
   I followed her everywhere I could
   I was small then--    
   do anything for a stick of Juicy Fruit
I followed Maureen through my dreams
   of being sixteen
   and woke to Peggy’s “Fever”
   while she tied her sneakers
   against the mattress by my head

I followed Maureen (in my mind)
   tanned and bandanned
   to work in the fields of shade tobacco
   with all those Puerto Rican boys!
   She knew where she was going!

I was small then
...do anything for a stick of  gum

“Mauney! Mauney! Mauney!”
   ...through the goldenrod of roadside
   through the smell of oil that damped the dust    
I followed Maureen’s white shorts
   and chestnut hair...to the corner store
I followed the way the boys smiled
   the way the screen door slammed
   on her bright behind
   the way her lips taunted and took
   the coke-bottle’s green
I followed Maureen

I swear, I tried for hours to get that right!

Must have been Peggy Lee’s “Fever”

Maureen ties her sneakers in my face
Flaunts her years above my head
She has that look—
“We kids don’t know nothin”
(Little turds” that we be)

…followin’ Maureen
through the goldenrod of roadside
tic-tockin’, beboppin’

“Fever— in the morning
Fever all through the night….”

Route 84 would not lend me
the light of a star last night
Radio blazing at 75 mph
nonsense noise to chew gum by
Crackling political commentary
Static of distance and thick clouds
Invisible mountains blocking
Memories seeping through the cracks
coating the music in a film
I rub my eyes
watch myself punch alert buttons
But it’s the angels’ jukebox tonight

Roll down the window
Watch the heat escape

Summer again

I am building a castle of ancient stones
pulverized by relentless tides
Dragged across maps by mastodons
and mammoth glaciers
The scouring hiss
the ocean sighs
Time has lulled these smoothly
rolling them in the softest hands of sand
and gels of life’s comings and goings
tenderly tumbling
in the millionth moonrise—
Time deposits them here
wet and glistening

For the girl with the plaid two-piece to gather
Shoulders sun-burnt barely say
one week only,
one week of the fifty two
“It’s the time of the season…”
and daddies on the beach are watching….

She has chosen yet another stone
And the castle continues—
in oblivion to all but her legend…

     The queen will be safe here
     from the rabble
     The disgraced Tristan will surely seek her
     Among these lofty cliffs
     Between the raging circuit of the tide
     Here winds forbid the vengeful mob
     Here lovers learn
     the debt of love’s bad timing
     “Drink ye all of it!”
     --the potion that assigns our sorrow….
     She will not sleep—
     while I chew this gum--  GUM?

Roll down the window!

Angels escape with the heat
Waking me with the brush of their wings

As that eighteen-wheeler hugs my flank
And leans on the horn
Lights flashing
Rude rumbling under right tires
Tantrum of snow
In the draft of mass and velocity

…and the angels?
They’ve chosen another good one!
They must’ve liked the 80’s
Their wings slapping the windshield madly  
Their hands steady the wheel