he says my beer reviews read like ****
that liar
he said he wasn't into ****

the shadows delighted to capture
her supple form and cast it
against the light
in lithe velocity
willowy limbs climb walls and streets
and in that way she belonged to them

Women don’t want hook-ups.
No matter how much she says she does,
no matter how much she enjoys the ***,
no matter how much she is good at it,
women want relationships.
Even the one you discovered has slept with all of your friends.
And the one who relies on her sexuality because she does not
believe in herself enough
to be anything other than the crazy chick
who will let you violate her in ways no one else will.
Even the one who pretends she does not love you but does
“friends with benefits” because it’s the only way to get
the friend part out of you.
Even the one you think is beautiful but intimidating because
her history of pain has created an aura of independence and mystery.
Even the one you think is ugly and you talk **** about to your friends
after you **** her.
So if you are wondering why your game of innuendos
and “just one time let’s use our drunkenness as an excuse”
always seems to backfire,
it’s because in her heart of hearts
in her quiet, truthful and lonely places
where she starts to believe she is something of beauty,
a woman of intelligence,
creativity and value
and that yeah, she is capable love,
women don’t want hook-ups.

Skin pinked in the August heat
Thick with sunlight, we sit on the patio
One ordered a Manhattan
Another that local ****-in-a glass pilsner
The typical name dropping
Of “priest so and so” and
“The one I pretend to be my close friend
but we never talk about anything real”
Place cards adhered to locations
Cabins, sports and Disney vacations
Dreams that make up the American childhood
Those women are always a little louder
Those raging extroverts
Social club doorkeepers
Definers of the status quo
If they never had kids
Who would they be?
In their six bedroom homes and
Forgotten memories
Of why they said “yes”
Talk faster!
The topic just veered to the left
Tacky dangling earrings shout—
"Follow the prescription of happiness
I can’t hear you and I don’t want to!"
That sun just kept beating down
Nodding and smiling at vacuous words
I started reciting song lyrics inside of my head

Let me be near you
In the comfort of your countenance
The wind softly swirling your tendrils of hair
Waves of sunlight land on your eyes
Almond shaped glow
Like a cat crouching
Beneath the bed
Measured movements
Measured breaths
Drawing surroundings inside yourself
Passing interpretations onto me

Let me listen to you
Blinking and shining our eyes locked in embrace
Speaking more loudly than the tongue
But making way for the tongue
Words that unite and ignite
Increasing breadth
Permission to hope, trust and believe
In this world
One more time
Lingering, holding the moment
Heart soaring from understanding

Let me touch your face
Graze the heat and texture that enshrouds
All that is you. Let me inside
Our spirits commune
Smile over us
Inviting
“Taste and discover!”
Who we have become
Who we are becoming
Recognition of this stranger
Stopping by on his way through time

A rudimentary grave
dug with bare hands
sculpted with lashing tongues
going deeper and deeper
until it dredged up
tainted water
now the grave
is thick with mud
but no less deep

in the course of a year
i experience 6-10 people dying
people who intrigue me and
whose walks and voices are
known to my remembrance.  
one of these people said to me
when her husband died
after the hospital caregivers
dropped him on his head
“Diane, there is no tomorrow”
Truth.
time is elusive
wasted energies on wasted minutes
can never be done over
and when I have no more time to
share philosophies or
look into another’s eyes
i don’t want to be caught wishing
to have those three days back
that I wasted on some
******* plastic ride
at Disney world.