Sitting on the porch
cigarette smoke swirling
all around.
The darkness is only lit by
hundreds of fireflies
and that little burning ember.
I remember you reaching
for my hand, electrifying.

"Look into my eyes"
I could tell you wanted
me to see something.

I remember like it was yesterday.
Endless pools of suffering with
so much amount of heartache
I could almost feel the daggers
in my chest.

I want a nobody.

A faceless commuter swearing as the machine ignores his credit card. Or the guy two tables to the left who isn’t checking his watch because he isn’t waiting on someone. Any hoodie-wearing, adidas-laced, prospective english major rambling along the sidewalk.

I want a nobody.

‘Cause there’s never a somebody that won’t say “I love you” because it’s numbed by too many mouths that don’t form their lips the right way. The somebodies slide it off their careless tongues—

because little words are pennies in tip jars.

But Nobody, he’ll say

I love the way you put on a jacket
like some kind of whip-snap in the lapels and collar
tipping your chin up and
hooking your silver-ringed thumbs in the pockets

and I love how you flip through books
eager to break the spine but not fold the pages
holding your breath to hold the focus
propping open a paperback between long tapered fingers

and how the barista at the coffeeshop knows your face!
and blush rises like foam on your cheeks

because it’s so ******* incredible how
when you drum your fingers
you don’t drum you press
into a phantom piano
the treble clef of Linus and Lucy
or The Entertainer
or, if your eyes have already gotten deeper
—in a mossy well of thought—
it’ll be Augustana’s Boston
dancing C-E-C-E-G-E-C-E
in the jumping tendons of your right hand.

                  *

oh darling, I’m in love with
your clumsy movements when you fall into bed
wrapping a thick comforter over your bare shoulders
curling your legs as you settle on your side
hair fanned out on the bedsheet because
the pillow’s too close to the wall


but lovely, I don’t love you
because I’m not real at all

You stab me in the back with a knife,
and I apologize for bleeding on it.

Come with me to the side of the moon
Where midnight flowers bloom in the gloom
The side of the moon where troubles melt away
And we won't ever need the light of day
We can lie in the shine of wishes unwished
And breathe in the lies of people unkissed
Come with me, I beg you dear
I promise you'll have nothing to fear
Except for all those spots between
Where raindrops fall behind a subtle smoke screen
Just ignore the lies I'm telling you,
Please believe my falsehoods true...
I'll make you come to my side of the moon
And you'll follow me into the doom.

He occupied her mind
Like a sit in protest
His eyes flashed like torches
His smile like a banner
The memory of his touch
Like raucous shouts
Igniting her zeal

She tried to subdue it
With busyness
Hoping to police
Her thoughts with new
Self control
But thoughts of him
Overcame it
Even riot shields
Couldn't contain it
Eventually tear gas
Would ***** her eyes

All the while his thoughts of her
Visited his mind
Intermittently
Like a passing tourist
Enjoying the convenience
Of a hotel room
With a free minibar

There once was a lass from Brighton
Whose jeans had begun to tighten
She gorged upon cake
On chips and on steak
Now her kids were afraid she might bite em!

The pink Panther tune
Was played in a major key
Upon my thigh
Composed of my son's raspberries.

Accompanied by tinkling laughter
Practiced with gusto
I don't think we'll make the x-factor
But maybe we'll do our own show!

Under the orange
street lights
it's 3am

Longing to find him,
she skulks alone
in the dark

And as London sleeps
her cries go unheard
by all but one

Throughout her adult life
all of the land shaded.
Feverless islands where the
aged couple sleep.
Never once have I hosted a party. Not once have I
told you, I have
been hurt.