A lot can be
accomplished
when you pull 
the covers over your
head, and just listen.
Tune out all the
distractions and *******.
Let the silence guide you.

Do you see all the
colors whirling around in
your mind?
The greens and the reds?
The indigo and violet?
They are thoughts forming.
Grand, artistic, unbridled thoughts.

People will desperately
try to distract you, and keep
you from this place.
They are a stranger to it.
Phones will go off.
The crowd will knock
at the door,
don't answer, they will
always be there.

Your job is to create in
your beautiful, dark womb.
There is a spark,
electric alchemy going on.
Don't question it.
You are an artist,
and you are giving birth

I'm an athlete.
I can throw and catch,
and run in the sun-
all shiny and bright.
And you just sleep, sleep, sleep.

Look at me, mama.
I'm a writer.
I do poetry and stories,
all pretty and pink,
and all you do is,
sleep, sleep, sleep.

Look at me, mama.
I can dance.
I'm lonely,
I'll move to France,
meet a woman, and get married.
Look at the ants crawl through
the spilled red juice on
the grass, nature everywhere,
as you sleep, sleep, sleep. 

Look mama,
Look at me, mama!
I have children now,
all good and wise,
you're a grandma.
Why don't you wake up?

Please look at me, mama.
Open your eyes.
I'm lonely and afraid.
I'm old now, and cold,
and you still,
just
sleep, sleep, sleep...

kisses
the sloppy kind that drips
taste of wine
on every sip

I like those messy
beds
the kind you romp in
and flop
underneath the spread

I like those messy
desks
the kind aligned
with pictures of your kids
their works of art
and bags of chips

I like those messy
homes
that looked lived in
scattered shoes by the door
pillows from the couch
on the floor
chewed up dog toys
books thrown on the coffee table
with a cup from last night's dinner

I like those messy
clothes
the kind that are wrinkled
that you don't tuck in
or can't bend over or sit
without showing skin
without buttons or belts
the kind you can eat in
without undoing the zipper

I like those messy
Lives
that aren’t *******
neat and square
like a package in the mail