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 Nov 2015 Rob Kingston
r
I feel like a foreigner
standing on a pier
waiting for word from a lover
across the blue water of tears.
A sad day. We stand with France.
 Nov 2015 Rob Kingston
Kj
dating a writer
is like guessing the weather.
you think you know what you'll get,
but you never do.

you never know
because

she'll create a hero
from your weaknesses

and she'll write a great character,
from every last flaw.

she'll create a thousand plots  
from your worst nightmares.

she'll take every last thing you hate
and create something you'll love.

she'll turn your anger
into confessions of adoration,

and she'll make you,
everything you're not.

but worst of all,
she'll leave you wondering-
is it you she's in love with,
or things she's created from you?

but here's the beauty of it:

if you date a writer,
you'll never die.
~

**How I'd like to see
you happy! Trust me -- beloved
handsome man - and laugh!
Angels visit this place sometimes,
when occasional fog comes down
& cloaks them in their flight

there are gelaterias
& burger restaurants in town now
& the buses still run at midnight

but when all are gone, the angels gather
at the sleeping harbor
& gaze at the Clifton lights

watching over this pirate town
guarding somebody's broken heart
perhaps now, mine

re-reading rejected love letters
shaking their sublime wings
love, dreams, music, revenge, rock, leather, beer
& a certain actor's eyes
is all my head can think of
tired out from rocking out to New York dolls
& watching movies all night
& yes now it's getting light
I guess there's no point
going to bed
when you've long decided
sleep is for the dead
& while you're still here
you may as well
burn that candle
fan girl
put on that lipstick
bright red
& with nowhere to go
polish your bitten nails
as if something
still matters
4 a.m rain, don't leave me now
we've got things to talk about
like how my clocks have stopped
& the loneliness of this heartbeat
& if you ever wish you were the sun instead
& if there is an afterlife
once human souls evaporate from the earth
& I know how the grey pavement glistens
under your touch, so let me keep
that beauty for a while longer
take a walk with me
let me dance to your drum's music
this unnaturally mild November
while the neighbors sleep
& the last leaves cling to the trees
dreaming of their bygone Springs
& Innocence
 Nov 2015 Rob Kingston
johnangelo
You touch me
without using
your hands
souls
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