I'll *******,
If you want.
Cause I want it
Just as bad as you do.
But I also want to hear the rustle of the sheets
When you turn over in the middle of the night.
I want to feel your hot breath on my neck.
I want the stubble on your chin to graze my cheek
As you kiss me gently on the forehead.
And when I whisper "goodnight," you don't have to reply.
Just nudge me with your knee
Or poke me with your elbow.

Part 1
"How about some long beautiful hair" the Santa says
The little girl rubs her head bald and veiny
She looks like a baseball

"No. It doesn't get in my eyes anymore when I play basketball" she says

The bunch of us
Sunken eyed and balding
In wheelchairs and on crutches
Some of us holding our I.V. stands for support

I can only imagine how the Santa feels
The tiniest zombies
All waiting for a turn

Me
I have silver caps on my top front teeth
And dentures
Look like an old Cadillac
Insides all rust and rumble

We all want to know if we were good this year

Part 2
Cut to the bunch of us
Watching the Blue Angels air show

All getting pictures with a man dressed as Shamu
He is supposed to write something on the backs of all the pictures

I try to imagine
What you could possibly write
To a group of kids that looked like us

Each photo
In shaky black ink
Because whales aren’t prehensile

He writes
I love you

Part3
When the circus came to the hospital
We all gathered on a balcony
The news was there

Clowns painted our faces

I asked if they had room for me
Told them I could be like that guy
From the 007 movies
With the silver teeth that could bite really big stuff

They said I might miss my folks
I told them I wouldn’t
Then took off my gown
To show them my scars

They weren’t impressed

Ever since I’ve wanted to join the circus

Part 4
Despite our qualifications
We could not join the circus

But that is okay
All we wanted really
Was to know if we were good
And that somebody loved us

We were
And somebody did

I stared East, directly into eyes of Ouranos
The Water Bearer, in her flowing robe, stood
Beaming like a new Mother at his Left hand
Andromeda, angry and ready to do battle on his right

Screaming forth with great fury
On a collision course with glory

Andromeda wields his fiery sword!

We are but particles in this drama.
Incapable of defending our existence
Attracting and repelling each other
As if we are of some great importance.

I, you, us, we, them...
all of us who are here,
have come,
or will ever be
combined

Are but the blink of an eye in this,

The Ultimate Drama.

Our Stars will dance the dance
And read the script as it was taught them.
The Tiny Audience already knows how it ends.
There really is no, “maybe...”
Or, “Well, it depends.”

This is the sixth day
in a row you haven't
slept and you can
still taste the cigarette
on her breath. On your breath.

This is the first night
you no longer scream
into your pillow
words that you scribbled
across your stitched tongue
when she was still yours.

Deny the doctor's orders
Become tangled in the barbed wire fences
And kiss bar girls on the cheek
The grass will grow and the sky is blue
Even if you are on food stamps
Even if you are worth millions

I don't love you
I love the soil
And the howling of wolves on the full moon
the hair on my neck stands up
When a cougar screams in the quarry
Exclaiming his triumph to the sky
With a mouth dripping warm blood




So far
I have not fallen in love with the painted on faces
But a girl who works in her garden during the hot afternoon
She sings to the pit bull sleeping on the path and in real life
She smiles and laughs brighter and louder than Times Square