there are four grapefruits and three lemons
that gathered themselves neatly in my kitchen
and took their places comfortably in a bowl on my counter,

patiently waiting for the day i peel them.

there is a stack of plates with shallow slopes
that toppled on top of one another in my cabinet
and rest still like hardened clay does.

laying anxiously for juice from food to spill atop their finish.

there is a man with two arms and legs, 10 digits on both pairs,
that loves a woman of the same kind,
and he sits alone on a couch, far away from her,

wondering why he doesn't use his arms and legs
to grasp her in the hold of those 20 digits.

show me careful construction
and the time it takes
to shape these surely joints
of this thing we're building together.

i'll reveal the careless destruction
and the childish naiveté
of those that have not loved like this
and the lessons left for learning.

what was that sentence you gave me?
I woke and could recall;
but walk some steps down and I forget.
It had weight like those heavy dreams often do.

really though, it was just a sentence my mind spit out,
mere seconds before my eyes would open,
to see the world as it is;
not as I dreamed it would be.

i've played my cards with the hand i was dealt
and it always comes up short in the end.
but i don't care too much about winning or loosing
i've grown to love watching how others play
and reminding them while i deal their fresh hand
that this is a very stupid ******* game we're playing.

keep your poker face.
i don't need to know your tell
to know the lie you live.

it was just past midday,
between the hour of 12 and 1,
when i laid outside in my aged underwear
and enjoyed one of those wakeful stretches
which feels more like a spasm,
atop the fallen wet leaves and still green grass
when a sun-shower shone and washed away
all my lingering summer thoughts.

that's when the mailman approached my mailbox
with that wave like hum of low gear driving,
delivering pulpy reminders of todays date in the real world
and the actual passage of time.

we've acquired an army of elephants
and this room we've built
remains entirely too small.

i'm tired of living in this zoo with you,
cause it smells like domesticated ****
and i need the open air and space.