david badgerow

david badgerow Aug 2012

all i have now
is ten toes in the sand
and the sun on my
chest, face and shoulders
i'm completely contaminated by
this bottle in my left hand,
the first drink i've had in days.

last night i spent
two hours knuckle-deep
in your fishnets, our tongues
were playing twister while
your daughter slept upstairs.

she was dreaming
of a car on fire
and a house exploding with
magnificent light,
downstairs you were wetter
than the deepest ocean
and i had the warmth of
your whisper in my ear.

david badgerow Aug 2012

carrot/giraffe

roses are red
my name is dave
this poem is random

Micro-
wave.

david badgerow Aug 2012

let joy ride

her hair was a cloud of cigarette smoke
and flowed down like beer
but smelled more like a whiskey distillery

she looked down on me
with her knees on my chest, she
popped her gum and
arched her back,
drilled a hole in my heart

but my heart still pounds and pumps
just like thunder or gasoline
when i remember that night,
and those next four days
we spent storming into
each other's secret hiding places
and driving reckless into the night.

we shared a nickel's worth
of bourbon
and a crumpled cigarette

when her parents found us
we were both
wrapped 'round each other
and in the stiff dawn light i wished
i was still wearing those
silly-looking shades.

david badgerow Jul 2012

that night

i haven't fogotten
that night
we waded
naked
knee deep into
that brown
river

the summer
had my back
and kissed
my shoulders but
the rest of mine
was yours

the moon was
high
and full of himself
and i could see
in your eyes
you were too

david badgerow Jul 2012

keep my words

my grandfather
taught me to
keep my words
like a woman's skirt;
long enough to
cover the good parts,
short enough to
keep things interesting.

david badgerow Jul 2012

jazz

my time is now.
dancing at midnight
full of whiskey and jazz
in a flickering subway station
with scuffed feet and smudged cheeks
and when the next train passes
i become a deadly blur.

my time is now.
riding my little cousin's bike
through downtown midnight streets
screaming jazz and eating smog
like it's my last sacred meal
and crying actual tears
from my hollowed-out eyes
for the lonely and beaten-down
trumpet players of jerusalem.

my time is now.
there are words in my bones
and i'm drilling into flesh
with a typewriter's hammer
and only a vague sense of direction
and no love of money
pockets empty and my head
is full of swinging jazz
and milky clouds
and smiling women.

david badgerow Jun 2012

in bed with you

i spent that whole night sweating
lying beside you in bed
delicately ******* that spot
on the small of your back
but not even breathing
in fear of
your
waking.