The right winter
for dope and ice
for walks along the river route
home

The right winter
for arctic pin-***** wind
holes in boots
turquoise dress coat
far too thin
for walks along the river

But The Merrimack couldn’t find her way
when fabric moguls migrated south
Fascinated by nylon nasties
they traded their silks and cottons
for those petro-polyesterdays

While she—
could no more manufacture life
than mint their money
So, they blamed her
Pronounced her—“Dead”
Decried her “*****”

Now—
She wanders sadly under bridges
stopping to eddy in an overhang of birches
In dank canals, I found her sleeping
angered only at the falls

Poor outcast!
with current edge she splinters light
from cities sadder still
retching her oily stench 
        past Plum Island
into the sea— into me

What’re a few warm tears
falling from someplace on a bridge
to the icy waters of the Merrimack?
Rivers get lost in the ocean don’t they?

Let them find each other there

I ended the only relationship I've ever had.

After four years I told him I didn't want to get married.
"So you want to get married but just not to me?"

I revisit that day in my sleep every night. The day that I took the plane to do it right. Boston far below.
"You have completely broken my heart."

My brother by my side at the departure and arrival. The sumner tunnel under construction and $300 in jet fuel later.
"I want you to be gone when I come out of the bathroom."

A few months prior he told me that dating me was "bliss". I knew it hadn't been that for me.
"Is this it? Are you done with me just like that?"

I told him that he was taking me for granted and I couldn't talk to him when I needed him most. Hiding my mental illness should he think I'm broken.
"Just because I don't ask how your day is does mean I don't care."

He flew to Boston not 12 hours later. Even during his grand gesture he couldn't help but criticize me.
"Stand up straight."

He told me he thought suicide was selfish. How was I to tell him I had considered parking my car on the highway bridge over the Merrimack river and jumping off? A women did that the first week I lived here, so I knew it would work.
"I thought about putting a gun in my mouth and pulling the trigger."

My best friend told me he asked her for her name. I'd been dating him for three years. Pop quiz: Who is your girlfriend's best friend and roommate? Did he even listen to me speak at all? Did he even care about my life at all?
"Whats your name again?"

Three months later, I only see you when I sleep. I'm haunted by this memory. I never dream we are still together and I wonder what that means. I've broken up with you a hundred times but it doesn't get any easier.
"Tell me everything you don't like about me. Give me a list."

Inspired by Allen Ginsberg’s Love Returned.

Tonight, there will be no merging onto
The wireless info web highway-
She returns, with smiles,
From thousands of miles,
To honor unresolved promise.
No longer anonymous, humming
My love song to someone in particular.

I weave my way across the margins,
Through a web of puddles and pebbles,
As puzzle pieces of sensual treble resonate,
Drizzle amiably down on my burgundy umbrella.

And she evolves, a silent tempest
That swells in the warmth of the night.

Is it the unaffected loyalty,
Or the sweetness of her smell?
The strength of her autonomy,
Or the completeness of our honesty?

As we peel away protective layers,
I hope that we remain,
Two connoisseurs of romance,
Who continue to slow dance.

Staying learned and childlike,
Earnest and mild, like
Students of truth.
From the thoughtful naiveté
Of maturing youth,
I offer my blessings to her.

It’s fitting that she, lovely
As a coveted Viyella,
Seems free of material expectations,
Or ring-around-the-rosy words.

So all that’s left to do-
Make our cozy escape, and find rest
Inside this departing Acela.
Calmed by the self-propelled motion
Of our northbound locomotive,
I consider a future inside fifty-two sunsets,
And finally set my sights upon
A sound, stone bridge.

It’s as though her auburn words,
Along with the acute angles of her smile,
Are anticipating my every beat.

I wonder if she knows that
Her eyes, a mélange of the
Steel blue Merrimack, below
A tall granite overpass, loom
Over these familiar train tracks,
A painted Methuen sunset.

When is my time?
I've been waiting for the chance.
When will I shine,
Stop this foolish dance.

I'm being devoured by small insects,
Picking away at my every sense.
I can't touch, hear, taste, or smell,
Only left feeling like Hell.

An able body but not for the army,
A voice that doesn't need to be heard.
An antisocial edgy ******,
Who wants what he doesn't deserve.

Ever buried yourself with the full intention to get back up,
Then on cue you realize that you have had enough?
Too much **** but no clean water to wash it down,
Left you treading slowly in the Merrimack trying to drown.

Knowing what I want,
And knowing what I can get.
I'd run away right now,
If I didn't feel in your debt.

Don't save us,
Lets fall down.

I wish I could believe
That somehow you were still here
But it's just too hard to stop the tears.
I cannot find a happy place,
'Cause everywhere there is a hole.
And everytime you are not there,
There's a falling in my soul.

I wish I could believe
That any moment now your feet
Would come crunching down this path.
I cannot stop the tears from falling
Like the cold, black waters of Merrimack,
And there is no comfort in this crying
When I keep wishing you were back.

I wish I could believe,
That you were sitting next to me.
I thought sitting by this stream
Would stop the streaming of my eyes,
But my sorrow cannot be sated,
When what was sweet, now is hated.