How do I say
Jesus Christ you've changed
without seeming like I don't like who you've become
because I miss the old you
I miss the jokes the old you told
I miss the way you didn't hold my hand unless I held yours first
I miss the nights when you were honest
I miss you always knowing when something was wrong
but lately you only make jokes at other people's expense
you grab my waist too hard
it always seems like you're trying to cover something up
you never ask me if I'm upset
which I'm almost happy about because you're normally the reason
you never come see me anymore and I'm wondering why that is
because I'm not sure if you remember when you said you loved me but I do
and I'm not sure if you still do but I thought I did for a while
until you disappeared and I think you left the old you in rehab
you've started drinking again
do you remember when you said it made you sad when I drank because I do
that's the reason I stopped
but now that you've picked up the bottle so have I
and our fingers are almost meeting in the middle
I'm scared to let you know how close I am to you
because I think you might rip it out of my hands and let it shatter at my feet
then leave me to pick up the pieces.

What keeps you from your life
is that you don't know what it is:
You have no words for its delights,
its triumphs,
nor its disappointments,
and the occasional death you live through.
Your words, the language you speak,
have not the vocabulary you seek;
Your life, the days that you live,
Pass you by, too fast to forgive.
Life is too complicated to put
into the frail words we call English.

But that's never stopped anyone from trying.

I don't know how many times
I have to fall in love
With the wrong person.
I've loved quite a few
But none of them ever
Felt the same way.
I treated them right
But I guess
I'm just never good enough
It makes me wonder really,
Is it all part of the plan?
Or am I just an unlucky human?

how much do you love her?
do you love her
like the Arizona mountains
that whisper to the sunsets that they are
magnificent paintings
rather than just a blushing sky

do you love her
like the Aztec ruins
with graceful ghosts of
****** sacrifices
that roam the rock and fallen shrines-
I bet there was a love like yours here too
I bet lustful eyes shared gazes here
once, too

do you love her
like a deep cave
with water falling for the
oil pastel walls
and with the echo songs of my past confessions,
my desperate pleas for your affections

do you love her,
please look me in the eyes
and tell me
she never compared
to the possibilities that my body holds
tell me boy
that you could give her up
and run to me
in summer
with fireworks bursting around us
and our limbs entangled..
please
be with me
give her up
be with me

At a quarter past eleven AM Charles took the stairs down to the lobby. Spare, yet stridently attired, he moved with the august vigor of a man only a third of his sixty-two years. Smart shoes, brimming smile and shoulders laden in the heavy weave of his sharp overcoat, Charles exchanged a quick wink with the precisely groomed lobby girl.

"Always a pleasure." He quipped.

"Always." She replied.

Drawing a deep breath of the frigid air, Charles paused as he pressed his shining wingtips into the undisturbed palate of that previous night's latest snowfall. Looking around excitedly, admiring the deep shimmer of that brisk morning:

Charles was struck down immediately by a large volume public transport–moving at an unusually high velocity.

In the midnight cafe where the smoke dances with steam
where I once had a dream of being the creme dela creme
when the day was still young and unbleached.
I sit sipping tea bought for me by the waitress
largesse it would seem but hardly the dream I once had.