Out in my car, just for a ride
She said
I can tell how a man makes love
Just from the way he drives

Shall I be smooth
With confident smile
Or tear up the tarmac
Cut loose for a while

What is your preference,
May I ask?
Distracted I slam the next car up the ****

Thank you
To the boy
Who smiled
At me
Today

It went
A long way

5:58 pm.
The tortures of the week
are bookended at last.
The sun has gone to slumber
Hoodie zipped and a layer
Of crimson lipstick;
I am out the door.

6:15 pm.
Numb hands clutch each other like lovers
there's a wind that snips like scissors
The train is late.
I wait.
Just another weekend, anyway.

6:17 pm.
Warm breath gushes from an open mouthed train
I step inside.
Bottles clink at cold feet as my bag is lain.

6:20 pm.
The train stops.
Shudders.

6:22 pm.
It's moving again.

7:00 pm.
Miles from home
I've entered my mini weekend world
That gnawing weekday feeling lifts from my chest at last

7:12 pm.
We walk, the six of us.
Up the hill,
Turn left.
And there's the woods.

7:14 pm.
"Does anyone know how to start a campfire?"
"I can't see a ****** thing."

7:45 pm.
Orange flames spit at the sky
Illuminating the branches above
A criss-cross mesh gives cover so little
To six cherry red cigarette ends.

8:32 pm.
The clinking bottles are
gone
thrown in a bush?
I think
I may
have drunk each
one. or more?
(Who knows)
I do.

8:45 pm.
I explore.
No one to guide
But five pale faces
moonlit and smiling and tripping on twigs

I finally feel I can join in their smiles, too.

9:01 pm.
I don't know these faces of moonlight all too well
But they're starting to feel like home.

10:32 pm.
A change of plan
We stagger though the door
Of her empty house.
I count 8 of us now,
I thank my lucky stars
I've spare clothes packed
And bask in the warmth
Of a new friend's house.

11:06 pm.
Sat on cramped carpet floor
I smile as the warmth fills my lungs
A buzzing high replaces faded intoxication
I pass it on
And am given a shoulder to rest upon.
(I'm so happy. Wow.)

11:48 pm.
My head is so fuzzy.
And the quiet boy from school
Sits across the room
Him and I
We're far more alike than I'd ever have known
And I'd never have known
If not for tonight.

1:15 am.
I never want this to end.

1:30 am.
She plays her hushed guitar
As I lie on her shoulder
She's so beautiful

I didn't know she could sing.

I wish she knew.
I sit back on the floor.
(She strums her guitar
And sings her last line
In a voice so **** quiet;
'Where is my mind?')

2:45am.
I never knew how different a film could be
Surrounded by friends
And high as the sky.

3:33 am.
I sleep.

5:02 am.
I wake.
The boy waves
From the side of the room
A silence not uncomfortable
It almost feels like June.

6:58 am.
I go to sleep once more.
And I'm happy.
I'm so happy.
At last.

Puritan James is about
to teach his growing-up son
a thing or two
about the evils of alcohol and drink

He places a glass of water
and a glass of whiskey side by side
on the dining table and he declares:
"Now watch, Mike,
what happens to the worms
I will put in the glass of water
and in the glass of whiskey;
and tell me what you learn"

And Mike watches the worms
curl up and die in the whiskey
and Mike formalises his wisdom:
*"Dad - I learn that if I drink whiskey
I will never have worms!"

Incipient Love*                  
Putting forth your best face, yet
Searching for what their eyes say

Seasoned Love
Going through your worst day, yet
Knowing you take their breath away

I am the poem
I refuse to write.

My skin has formed itself
as sedimented book pages,
quietly injecting
our unspoken metaphors
into my bloodstream
of Murakami, of Plath,
of everything that hurt too much
to even whisper to my typewriter.

I am a poet,
and I will type you
into the night sky.

My fear sleeps so far
tonight, cradled lovingly
in the arms of faith.