Just another quiet night
nothing new
its been awhile since I called you
i guess it's safe to say its over
now its like I don't know her
and I never thought I'd have to say this
but I hate this
it's quite a distance
between us but I still feel it
my heart is still beating for her
no never mind let me just quit
gotta get her out of my head
but I think I would rather be dead than just forget
who she was and who we were
together we were the same line in the same verse

you play
finger puppets
in the black sky
warm
unperturbed
little worms
eating
hot soil
and foot

“I’m going to
eat this star.
Actually, I’m going
to eat them all.
I’m awfully
hungry.”

you find the
nutella I hid
under the rock
and dip the
puppets in

“Did you know
I sew?
I sewed these
puppets.
Even
the little black
eyes and the
teensy red
buttons. All in
the patience
this sky taught
me.”

your mouth
is dry and
you search
for lake water

“I swear, it’s
so hard being
a fish in
Arizona.”

the desert
agrees

once
we prayed for
rain and danced
naked in
the sand
now it’s
night and
the sand went
to sleep
now it’s night
and the stars
are disks

“Lord, take
me now. I’m a
painter, a
painter without
color.”

the act is
over
the shield
put down
and the night
swallows
disks
as you lick
chocolate paint
from your
fingers

“Goodnight, friend.
Sleep well, fish.
Until tomorrow, moon.”

your body
fresh
black
the emerald
of color

To the tune "Red Lips"

Tired of swinging
indolent
I rise with a slender hand
put right
my hair
the dew thick
on frail blossoms
sweat seeping through
my thin robe
and seeing
my friend come
stockings torn
gold hairpins askew
I walk over
blushing
lean against the door
turn my head
grasp the dark green plums
and smell them.

Something amazing happened last week
For a moment I felt what it was like to be young again
With my memories I can never quite get there

But I try

I’ll close my eyes when I eat a chipwich
it tastes like running back to our beach umbrella with sticky fingers
the summer we rented a cottage in Montauk
I long for the itchy feeling of sand in my bathing suit
and for the salt to sting my eyes again

That would be heaven
But I still throw the wrapper away in the stainless steel trash can
beneath the sink in my apartment
that is exactly two hundred miles and twenty three years from Ditch Plains

It hurts sometimes
to remember how much I have forgotten
When we had dance parties to the Austin Powers soundtrack
When watching mom get dressed
and waiting for the babysitter
and kissing you goodbye
and chicken nuggets for dinner
was the best feeling in the world
Because I knew I could always expect
the smell of your coffee in the morning
those days when we lived in the red house on Craft Avenue.

But last week
in the backseat of a friend’s car
driving back to Boston after a long hike
I watched the gray forest pass by outside my window
and I fought to keep my eyes open
I was no longer thirty-five
I knew the moment would come when I would be lifted out of my car seat
and brought inside
where you would light a fire
and mom would make hot chocolate for us
And later we would eat homemade popcorn and watch Titanic
as our winter boots lay on their sides in the front hall
the snow between the treads slowly melting and darkening the wood floor

I felt very safe inside that car
the kind that only a child on the brim of sleep can feel
I don’t know if I will feel that way again
But I will still close my eyes when I eat a chipwich
and wait for the smell of your coffee in the morning

In the wake of the moon
All my world is sadness
The crescent hung night
Under whose cover
I drink fire

Hidden from the gods
Hidden from the eyes
Satisfied

Fleeting in the first moment of morning light

I wish to be alone
Staring out from an empty field
I want to see God
Bend down and blow out the sun
Then I would lie down in the ice
And spin through dark eternities

His eyes are locked on you,
Daring you to flinch.
Everybody's starring,
But you cannot give an inch.
Everything you have--
Everything that matters--
Has  been melted down and made
Into your armor, now battered.
The fight for him is just for sport,
A way to gain some scraps of honor.
The fight for you is for a life--
Consequences far more dire.
You cannot turn and run,
There is no option of surrender.
The loss of souls or souls conserved
Won't be how victory is measured.
Neither choice would end this fight.
You're fighting everyday.
And ending confrontation
Won't take that fight away.
The odds are stacked against you,
You'll die before the fighting's done.
But you will stand your ground
Even if you're the only one.
For it wasn't choice that put you here
But rather unlucky birth.
And this fight will take your life
Even if that's not what it's worth.