A lot of people will write about her, I know
she was not only mine.
We are sad we are grieving
a community bands together.

My anger is macabre inappropriate:
when her light turned out, she turned out several others.
My dearest friend:
empty gas lamp.

Trying to relight is against a tempest
and sequestered in despair,
with internal lighter fluid drained
our marrow dry as dust.

(the real truth of it all is much harder to swallow
than the news story you heard)

This time of year impermeable black takes over luxurious afternoon.
I take stolen moments with my garden book;
fat glossy nostalgic roses can only depress me further.
Lonely for the company of my friends
thrumming in chlorophyll,
the warm green network is contained in a small *** that I move
I move around the room with me,
following a shallow puddle of sunlight so precious it might be gold.

Licking the foam off the inside of my coffee mug
I am sitting at the table working
and you can’t fathom what’s wrong with me
it feels like something other than blood is inside me
it makes me itchy all the time
and my heart concaves inside my plump chest
I am gasping at the air around me
and you ask me why I sigh so.
I feel alone wherever I go

just so you know
i’m keeping a mistress
on the side
in the style of My Father

something inside me is constantly dissatisfied

This morning I woke up to a circus runaway
He was sitting in the kitchen
of the house I share with three boys
he eyed me in my pajamas

He was sitting in the kitchen
basking in the light of the morning
he eyed me in my pajamas
He works for the circus that stopped in town

He is Evan’s second cousin once removed
I fried us eggs while everyone else slept
He missed the circus train to Atlanta
and needed a place to stay.

I fried us eggs while everyone else slept
We watched the dogs playing in the yard
he needed a place to stay
and put his feet up on the table

He told me stories about working at the circus
I’ve always had a lingering curiosity
he put his feet up on the table
and had a girlfriend waiting for him in Charlotte

This morning I woke up to a circus runaway
I made him breakfast and then he had to leave
for a few minutes he talked with Evan
about traveling (running again) to India

I’ve always had a lingering curiosity
he eyed me in my pajamas
he had a girlfriend waiting for him in Charlotte
I made him breakfast and then he had to leave

it’s obnoxiously hard to identify
every year this time
I am in a depressed mood and I don’t
I don’t.

Truthfully this is how it’s been
how it will be for a while
beer gut receding hairline
my grumpy artist man
buys me gin and Mexican food
and tucks me into bed at 3 when I can’t take it anymore
I don’t care how many times you forget
I’m your baby and I’ll be waiting
hating your guts
to kiss you at the door