I am afraid to tell
people that I have
no friends, because
I am afraid to lose
them too.

laced with lovers lonely thoughts,
We prowl.

a handful of shadowed sinners
veiled by the illusions of sainthood,
We lie.

etiquette adapts to enchant.
laugh to lure, touch to trap,
We ******.

clothes clutter the carpet.
with the courtship climaxing,
We ****.

before the sun can show your shame,
We leave.

I want to be the one
That fills up your
Polaroids
Those polaroids
You keep hidden
In your drawer
That show me
Sitting on the bed
Bare backed
In the sunlight
From the open window
With my head turned
Looking at you

I've taken this half baked body of mine
and put it in a safe

two nights it's been in there
and nobody inquired

I opened the casket
and discovered where my heart lay
melting in with the knots in the wood
and shining like the iron locks

I found these fingerprints all over it
crisscrossing to my hand

I found you in them,
friend
I followed you into the land

Of bees and antelopes and margosa trees
scattered and fat like you and me
with olive brains in the sandy beach
and candy eyes as white as bleach

I peered into your delirious face
and with my white, cold frightened hands
tried to scratch your knuckles
into existence
"Wake up!" I said, "Wake up, you man!"

You said, "let's analyze the form"
and I decided you were completely torn

Your zipper lines from head to toe
were hanging out, you let them show

Little tea cups lined the path to the bridge
I looked at them and their tiny cracks
the painted flowers had no beginning nor end
the handle was liquid from the bend

I sat
and waited
and thought
and pondered
and existed
and more

about whether I was meant at all for this place
or if I should have left my mind
in the casket
with the knotted wood

Or if it had already been lost
drifting away with the marmalade sea

If I were to write about you
I’d write about the stars
and how beautiful they look
and how beautiful you looked under them
I’d write about summer love
and spring
and fall
and winter
I’d write about arguments
And mistakes
I’d write about all the things i should have said
and all the times i didn't have too
I’d write about how songs remind me
and movies
And people
and places
and adjectives
and parts of speech
and worst of all you remind me of you
I’d write about the beginning
and the end
and that wonderful in-between
id write about how you made me smile
and made me cry
I’d write about broken hearts
and braking hearts
and having to piece them back together
I’d write about you
and about me
and about us
and what we used to be

**** robin wakes and greets the dawn
With high-pitched chittering;
Spindly legs bear his stout form
Across the frozen terrain;
Icy breezes ruffle rosy breast,
Blood red against the charcoal soil
And sugar-frosted shrubs;
He spies a lardy oasis
Strung from a barren branch
And breaks the night’s fast
With ravenous peck.
Close by, spider, aroused,
Dazzled by its diamond-studded abode,
Unfurls its legs to investigate
The solitude of its frozen labour.
Gazing down upon the scene,
The hazy moon,
Sickle of silver smudged
On sapphire sky,
Prepares to renounce its sentry duty
To the sun,
The glowing amber orb
On the horizon;
And so to bed Jack Frost,
Your toil is done.

Helen looked up
at the rain drenched sky
as you both stood
under the extended roof

of the coal wharf
off of Meadow Row
she had on
her dark blue raincoat

with the hood
which was over
her head
and her thick lens glasses

enlarged her eyes
as she peered out
looks like
it’s in for the day

you said
pulling your coat
around you
to keep out

the chill
just as well
I didn’t bring my doll
Battered Betty

she said
she hates the rain
you stared out
at the downpour

it seemed endless
why does it have to rain
on a Saturday?
Why not a school day?

you said
Helen took off
her glasses
and wiped them

on a small white
handkerchief
you watched her
as she wiped them

her small hands
at work
the glasses
being cleaned

and cleared
you look pretty
when you’re wet
you said

she looked at you
do I?
she said
sure you do

you said
but not otherwise?
she asked
you looked at her

as she put on
her glasses again
well you look prettier
you added

staring once more
at the rain
no one’s said
I was pretty before

she said
they usually
call me four eyes
or horsey teeth

well you’re pretty
you said shyly
not wanting to get in
too deep

a horse drawn
coal wagon
went by
as you both stood

beneath
the extended roof
the horse trotting
along in the puddles

on the cobblestones
the driver
staring sternly
into the pouring rain

you wiped raindrops
from your nose
and flicked them
into the air

am I really?
she asked
gazing at you
the hood of her coat

framing her face
yes
you said
and your teeth

are fine
don’t worry
what others say
and she put

her arm under yours
as you looked away.