I know it's the last thing
that you want to hear
but he made me feel
like you make me feel.

It's not that I'm trying
to hurt you, I fear
though, that he made me feel
like you make me feel.

I need to know
what I'm feeling is real
so, "Get out of here,
do not bring yourself near me."

(I'd rather stay quiet
and cry myself out
if I'd otherwise cry out
while no one could hear me.)

I   measure    the     weeks

in        the   number       of      Tuesdays

I use   to water   the  Beautiful  orchid

from    the   Most  Beautiful,  Graceful

of   women.   I bet there is something

to    be    said         about      the    very

particular     care           of    such      a

Beautiful, Graceful   flower.   Not  her

it   seems,   as   she's   taken   so freely

to   me.      A   reminder  and  a gift,  a

                                          Beautiful  gi­ft.



Three.          Technically

I forgot once.

and that Wednesday (4)

is  a bright orange tally

on  the  chalkboard  in

my mind.

        Everything is fine.




Three   or   four   weeks

and it's almost Tuesday.

The heart is more
like bone.
Weight-bearing.

With more impact,
fissures show
the tiny ways
a heart can break.

Scarring over.
Growing older
makes a heavy heart.

it looks like it is raining
where i'm walking.
i'll know before i get there
but i'm going
out for coffee
for a triple maple latte
at the bakery,

out for coffee
i no longer buy on credit,

a triple maple latte
because i'm learning
when i ask
for what i want
is when i get it.
next must surely be
learning what it is to ask for,

but i am getting better,
so today i'll have
a latte
and
could give or take
the rain.

I asked myself Who are you when you get caught in the rain and I thought of myself (and only myself) and the time I was running to work when it started to rain and I dashed from tree, to magnolia tree, until I was able to pop in the convenience store.
And I remembered just exactly how many people stared, and the look on their (sheltered) faces, making it that much harder to be that person caught in the rain.

Here I am walking exactly as fast as this raincloud
and my eyes are puffy but my belly is full
and I have forty dollars more
than I'm used to.
I have forty-two dollars.
Plenty!
And at least I can see,
because I am looking.
It's just a mailman.
And some of those big scarlet bundles on big tall green bushes.
And maybe I've smoked my last cigarette?
I have some more so it's OK if I didn't, but maybe I did.
I am walking my feet in the ground, just as fast as this raincloud.
I am walking my feet to destruction and my mind to distraction
as fast as this raincloud goes, home, and the long way.
And maybe I shouldn't speed up or slow down.
I took my first deep breath next to a trash can.
It's not going to **** me.
The first sight I saw was only a mailman
but I'm making my way to the park
where it's green by the fountain
and all I can be sure is I'm counting the leaves when I get there.

I am your headache,
gentle resentment
on a Friday evening.
I am four beers blunt
and two shots tired.
I am flirting with life
like a closeted man.
I am flailing my arms
hailing a ride home.
I am ready for sleep
but don't have dreams.
I am sorry I can't be
everything you want.