the rain is
nostalgic
romantic, and
pretty
like a sad muze,
the best day for poetry to spring, and
breathe fresh air,
somehow,
we,
people, besides whining and complaining about the ugly weather, still get quieter without noticing
that rain, like a peacemaker, is trying hard to make us stop and surrender to life as everything around us
does
make peace on earth as the sky is crying

I don't know how it found  you, but
tonight is the full moon,
yellow moon,
I have never seen it before, it is shining like gold above the land,
the grass is submissive
and the  farmers are working hard, cutting it  for the cows,

My real  lover has come,
he returned, but
he is drunk,
and I don't know how to touch him,
I don't know how to kiss him,

His tears are falling down  like rain
in despair,

My lover returned,  -
God is one, has no equal,
but, I don't know how to love  him,
Caresse him

Rockefeller Centre do you have a garbage can,
do you have an electric charger
Rockefeller Centre do you have water,
Rockefeller Centre do you have a happy life???

we learned to sit like birds on a wire,
the bicycle,
unicycle, the backward somersault,
the front somersault, the chair on the wire,
the bed on a cloud,
seated in a hyperloop toilet,
69,
96 in an 8,
jumping through hoops: what we are doing here?
it looks almost unreal, so
we started to reinvent the wire, like emil cioran,
we reinvented insomnia and
the otherness …

it's enough to breathe
to touch you

it's enough to breathe
let your voice sing

it's enough to breathe
to see you come and go
walk like an angel

When I was little, my stepfather and I would be outside, coloring the driveway with chalk or throwing a frisbee and he’d stop and say, “I’m gonna go stir your mama up.”

He’d go in the house, coming out minutes later with my mom hot on his heels, waving her arms and haranguing his retreating back. She couldn’t see the big grin on his face as he approached me, “It’s good for her heart,” he’d say, chuckling and resuming whatever we were doing, “We’ve got to keep her on her toes.” He’s a master of dolorous mischief.

Flash forward to a cold, dark, Yale, winter evening in 2023. Peter and I are in the suite’s common room. Four dorm rooms share this ‘living room’ area but we’re alone, which was rare.

I’d been reading for about an hour and I was only half done. A chemistry PSet was next. I closed my Chinese language studies book and looked up. Peter was there, sitting on the floor, leaning back on the far end of the red corduroy couch where I was sitting. His long lanky frame was curled around the book he was reading, like an awkward python.

As I watched, he plucked a mint-chocolate milkshake off the white coffee table, bringing the straw to his lips without ever taking his eyes off his book. Homework, homework, homework.
I was bored and wanted a little attention, a little fun.

“Was I your first choice?” I asked him, as he noisily slurped at the last of his milkshake.
“First choice for what?” He asked.
“To be your girlfriend,” I clarified, emphasizing the last word.

He thought for a moment, “No, I had salty love-jones for Ivy Waters in second grade. Why?”
“I don’t know, It just occurred to me to ask,” I confided. “so, why did you choose me then?”
“Well,” he said, raising his eyebrows in all, fake sincerity, “you know all the best jokes,” and with that, he went back to his milkshake (argh!).

“I know, you’re finishing your doctorate,” I said, “but you could be a flight attendant!”
Peter stopped trying to stir the last of his milkshake into a slurpable lump and froze in thought. “It’s TRUE,” I continued, “Really - you need to be flexible in your planning. I read that most physicists slave away in povertude.”

“Povertude, huh?’ He said, and resumed his mint-chocolate work - his straw making a loud “ssssuuuuusssssskkkkkkkkkk,” empty-cup air-******* sound.
“AI isn’t going to replace **** flight attendants,” I offered, as my last argument in the matter.

After a moment he asked, “You really think I could carry it off?” Putting his palm on his hip and wiggling his shoulders in a provocative shimmy.

“I KNEW you’d leave me at the FIRST opportunity,” I said, turning sharply away, pretending to ignore him - the universal cap of girlfriends everywhere - with a condensed absence of attention that, I hoped, spoke unspoken things.

Setting his milkshake down, he gave me a lecherous smile, which made me giggle, and began crawling in my direction.

“Eeek!” I shrieked, laughing, as he climbed up on the couch, “I still have homework!”