Was in my heart
(was in my head)
Was in my throat
(I knew no dread)
Was on my lips
(and so I said)
Rolled off my
      tongue
I love you
(dead)

Too late, too late
(his heart turned
      stone)
I wanted him
(go home,
      go home)
In words, in deeds
(I should have
      known)
Goodbye my
      dear
(I'm all alone)

I have no idea what does
or does not grow in those
sorry patches once full
of hope, the ones I checked on
everyday, waiting for the first
bit of green to push its way
out of the earth as if to prove
something about my worthiness
my optimism, even in the face
of all that other decay
I don't believe he ever
took a look, kept his face
pointed the other way
sure of disappointment
but like a kid who can barely
wait for Christmas he waited
for a garden that pops up
all in one day, along with
a woman that transforms
over night, not the one
he went to sleep with
but someone so much
better
I've always had the hope
that in my absence my
gardens flourished,
even went crazy with
green and vines and
fruits and flowers,
so many flowers
and even with the next
one coming behind me
and bashing the crap
out of everything that
sprouted, that's okay
I imagined always the
following year and
and the one after that
in the event she was
still there, the blooms
coming back in spite
of all her efforts to
**** them
and if flowers could talk?
what else could they say
but, Lady, give up-
she will never go
away

Part One
Not me said the Jenny
all spun and hung from
a tree branch, dead
and she tosses her guilt
her blame, her shame
like a wedding bouquet
You mistake me for
something so happy
and fed, Go! Spend
your noon- we'll
give you a spoon
I am the kind of joy
that hangs from every
near dread- the handle
the candle (the candle)
the locked door and
the latch
Miss Jenny,
spoon fed

Part Two
I am a friend to all
animals and they are
a friend to me, we share
our blood, the same
slow trickle, the flood
I am like Saint Francis
hold me, you animal
close to your chest
feel the flood of
blood's cadence
the surge, the drop
to the floor, how
I say love

You tell me I am the store clerk
in this company store
I am the one with the yardstick,
a symbol of authority, you say
but one I never used to measure
my own faults or even measure
the thread you used to catch
me in so many knots

You send me away with a few
extra inches, a mind crammed
with outrageous hope, and a
checklist of unanswered questions
dandelion in hand encouraging
the dust, a beat up rusted hope
in the middle of a fallow field

You never thought I'd backtrack
did you? tripping over that pile
of threads, my foot caught in
the center, a prey through
a scope with laughter on
the other end

Again I tell you I need
to know more than I need
to know you
I need to know the glory
of winning a war I once
thought was ridiculous

(And when I look down
and see you have dressed me
in a fool's garb you say not
to worry because looks
can be deceiving
and what the ****
do I know?)

The truth will reveal itself
in a slow and sly burlesque
flowers dropping their petals
**** and unbearable and
when the answer comes
to your lips you will not
know how to say yes
your mouth pressed
into a no and the rest
the rest, the rest