Those hipster blogs never held your attention,
always more interested in what your idols had to say.
It was still nice when they received some recognition.
Every musician who played the lady well, deserved some shine.
But you are just a casual, and no way could you pick up an instrument.
You say you don't know her too well.
Did you ever scour the web for what is considered the newest indie hit just to learn her better,
were you The American Listener?
You couldn't be.
Critics rarely suited your taste.
You knew what you liked in her,
you didn't need affirmation.
Applying what little you've retained from the musicians you knew,
and the thousands of intricate melodies you've managed to scratch the surface with.
But still, you don't know her.
You don't know her but you love her don't you?
You put a note on your fourth finger without knowing who she was, didn't you?
She made you wanna ***** dance when no one was looking
And sometimes when someone was.
She made you feel like you could sleep again.
She made you feel like whatever you were doing wasn't too bad after all.
You skipped seeing her when you were feeling down,
you are emotional
And didn't need her sad voice to wallow,
you sang it to yourself and forgot
she was living inside you anyway.

in a rather expensive restaurant
6 people are seated at a table next to us
drunk and bored
fat and old.

"hey blondie," the blue haired thrice divorce widow asks jen,
"how's that hamburger taste?"
blue hair pops an oyster from its grey shell as manny laughs
but his sagging eyelids can't see daylight.

I light a cheap cigar and blow smoke their way.
someone coughs and I smile.

they plan funeral arrangements.
discuss burial vs cremation.
manny wants to be cremated
while blue hair wants to be buried.
they argue.

and when a waitress comes to pick up 6 empty shells
left on the white china plate
I turn to them and smile again.
they are envious
because
we are young.

later: much, much later
in the crack in the ceiling of time
seated at a table
i pluck an oyster
and leave an empty shell.

glistening holographics
memories that never happened
pretending that there is magic

glitter on her eyelids
******* but she's still a diamond
pretty things die young

glamorous daydreams
but reality awakens
precious hope breaking

The great sea
Never rests

Undulating
Swelling
Churning
Purifying

Changing
Colours
Turquoise
Blue
Black
Grey

I am with you
In you
Surrounded by you
And I know
The great swell
Of your fervour

You
Untameable
Home
To more
Than I
Could imagine
Roll and sway

And I
Depart
Distanced
From your ***** energy
With each step
I take inland

But I return to you
Awed by your majesty
My earthly pursuits
Reconciled
And levelled
By your greatness

~


stretching cavern
    stalactites elongate
lichen plaque where faint light reaches

guano softens the rocky floor
    giving habitat to beetle and grub

the occasional rodent carcass
    rots in the warmth

tiny bat babies cling
     first to mother fur
               then to cold stone

they wait for insect meals
          passed with love and saliva
                  eager mouths stretch    /

You sure like to
Take things slow.
Lead-mouthed kisses,
Long meals,
Leisurely dates.
You're taking my sweet time
Getting here.

I'll forgive you when you do.

I don't know if you'll understand
What's going into all my waiting.
All the solitary nights-
My undented mattress.
My cold hands
Hanging at my sides.
My eyes-- seeking.

The promise of you on my shoulders.

I am pinning parts of you
Onto any girl around
Worth pining over.
Or any girl around
Long enough
For me to
Get a glimpse of you through.

A coveting kaleidoscope.

I worry about time.
About giving the good
Bits of myself
To other girls-
Mistaking them for you.
What if I do,
And don't get them back?

What if I meet you empty-handed?

I know,
I'm a silly 17
Year-old.
And you are
25. Or 43. Or 80.
But hey,
I like older ladies.

Please love me, 17 year-old sweet-talker.

Pick yourself up,
Out of your bed-
Undented.
Wear warm gloves.
Kiss cute girls
(Or guys.)
Wander around.

*I'll be waiting for you.