Workingmen believed
He busted trusts,
And put his picture in their windows.
"What he'd have done in France!"
They said.
Perhaps he would--
He could have died
Perhaps,
Though generals rarely die except in bed,
As he did finally.
And all the legends that he started in his life
Live on and prosper,
Unhampered now by his existence.

If I wrote about love,
I would write about you
About how your long lashes
Resemble those of intricate stings
In Mozart’s dreams
Or how you walk
Like gravity’s talk
Is lost in the sound of your step
I could mention how the beauty of the stars
Is at the center of your eyes
And when I stare
They capture me

You see, I want to drink the light in your skin
Jump up and tell the universe of a love I thought I knew
Then they can tell the story of how I fell for you
If I wrote about love, I’d write about how ever note I play
Always says your name
That I am the musician
And you’re my favorite song
And daydream of how your precious heart I chased
And then as we swam up the milky way
I would sings song about your name

If I wrote about love
I’d talk about your heartbeat
And how ever second it goes
And every minute the blood flows
My heart knows
It matches yours
And just as much as it beats for me
It beats for you
How the halls of my heart
Echo with the with violent vibration
Of our own monstrous laughter

You left
For England
Saturday
An it was raining when you left
An when you got back
It rained still.

And you were gone
For one week
Seven days.
Which is five school days
For me to squeeze through geometry
without you
(And
I
Can
Barely
Survive
With
You)

And Sarah asked
For a Union Jack
T-shirt
And told you
Not to forget.

And you brought it
For her
And
Got
Nothing
For
Me

But you told me
"You didn't ask
But if you want something
I'll get it for you
Next time.
I have to go back in
Six to eight weeks"

And I thought
You would have
Bought me something
Not as a
Souvenir
But
As
An
Apology

For leaving my alone
For a week
To live lonely

And yet
You'll go back
To England across the pond
In
Six
To
Eight
Weeks

Sometimes I doubt you're actually going to England.

Sometimes I forget I have a father.

He used it this morning.

Kevin Robinson,
Who has thick curly hair
And
Thinks
He
Knows
Everything.

And I told him,
"What kind of a word
Is
Irradiate?
It isn't a word."

And he told me
In his
Know
It
All
Way
"YES, it IS."

And he spelled it for me.
Because he's into spelling.

I
R
R
A
D
I
A
T
E

So I huffed
And left
Kevin Robinson.

But Randy Weidman
Whose last name
Has a whole different meaning
Had his fancy
New
iPhone 5
And during
First period
Which happens to be
Geometry Honors
He took out
Sira
Or
Whatever
Her
Name
Is

And he asked her.

Sira did not understand.
Sira is not so smart.

But autocorrect is.

And it turns out that
Irradiate
Is
A
Word.

Long, gloved fingers,
Shocking white in dark forest,
Models of winter.