There was an old person of Pinner,
As thin as a lath, if not thinner;
They dressed him in white,
And roll'd him up tight,
That elastic old person of Pinner.

skin polished
with oils, salt and husks
i gleam
with perfumed butters and musk
silken smooth flesh
like living warm honey
i languish
in the golden light of dusk
limbs naked
under silks and plush
i wait

i wait for you

Heavy sleep. Alarm clock blaring. The bus I missed. The way you
looked at me when I sat down. How you liked the shirt I was wearing.
My awkward compliment on your outfit. Your number in my phone.
Paying for the first date with you. For the third. The incredible ***.
Paying for the twentieth date. Months passing. Two Anniversaries and
one ring. The apartment we bought. The bed we shared. The things we
said. The moments we had together. Overwhelmed by my feelings for
you. Wrestling in the kitchen. Quiet nights at home. Pet names. A
sense of comfort. The time that went by. The stress from your job. My
overtime at work. Not tonight dear, I have a headache. Arguing over
directions. Nothing to worry about, just a rough patch. Silence at
dinner. The big fight. The divorce papers. Your confession that you
never loved me. The hole where my heart used to be. All the alcohol I
drank. All the women I ******. Convincing myself that I’m past you.
Time at the gym. Wave to the cute girl at the bar. Get a haircut. Start a
diet. Smile at strangers. Buy a new car. Just fine, never better. See you
with him at the grocery store. My silent indignation. His hand with
yours. The tears on the way home. Grinding my teeth. I'm too good for
you anyway. The beer I consumed. The tree I drove into. The meetings
I went to. The way I hated myself. The way I hated you. The way I still
loved you. The way I knew I always would. The way I hated realizing
that. The depression. The *******. Still sleeping on the right side
of the bed. The volunteer hours I completed. The charity worker I met.
The mediocre ***. The way she said she understood me. My guard
coming down. Forgetting the way you looked. Deleting the messages I
saved. Sighing. My second marriage. The kids she had with me. The
years that melted together. Hearing you moved a while back from an
old neighbor. Long walks by myself. Everyday seeming the same.
Never feeling right. All the years I woke up

cold,

alone,

still wishing you were next to me.

Clothed in our fancy garb of colored cloth,
We spin around the ballroom in our dance.
We float about on wings of dainty moth.
We dream our dreams of myst'ry and romance.

And yet why do we wear these feathered masks?
We hide our face because it's all an act.
We're players on the stage: it is our task
To entertain the crowd and to enact
A show where we take on another role.
We play the part that they assign us to,
And to please them is our only goal.
We dance for them until they say we're through.

When we conform we join this strange ballet,
And watch our own identities decay.

some people think they got a lot,
when all they got,
are children that hate them quite a lot.

your house won't save you.
your finely pressed slacks won't save you.
your tan, ageless wife won't save you.

some people think they got a lot,
when all they got,
is hunger nonstop.

your bill of rights won't save you.
your republican party won't save you.
your daddy of great renown won't save you.

some people think they got a lot,
when all they got,
is circular plot.

your ****** won't save you.
your tax deductible donation won't save you.
your patience in line won't save you.

some people think they got a lot,
when all they got,
are a few friends at a future funeral.

the coffee was cold.
a day old.
i heated it.
poured it.
fought through it.

put on a b-film.
something about crap
films made our lives
feel more fulfilling.

we laughed.
exposed every flaw.
we held hands.
snuck
loving glances.

i have to wake up in three
hours, but all i can think
is life is luck,
even for the dumbest of us,
when you tell your
eyes to open up.

We smile
sharing
inspiration
and
each
healthy
response
            .­
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