i can
conjurer up words
mix delicate
intricacies of verse
with poetic license
i might defecate
upon scripted genius
   of the past
a scourge
on the eloquence
   of perfected prose
a pariah
with semantics
that hang in the air
like a frequented noose
the rhetoric of
this rhetoric
both dumbfounds
   and delights
the agenda of the learned;
to supress
the syntax spat forth
the phlegm and catarrh
of a gut
of derivatives

i could compose
a verse
for young lovers
   to cherish
if i could
only stop
the rot;
genius
   nonsense
      or ignorance
i couldn't
tell you
which

you taught me
how much love
truly resides in me,
how capable I am,
of loving, being loved,

but you also
reminded me,
of why I had
built walls around
my heart so high,
that even I couldn't
get a peak.

All my exes know about you
because in severing
myself from them
they only heard me
cry out
your name.

Everyone I have ever loved
and will ever come to love
will sit with me at a
table set for three
and always wonder
whose company
I was expecting.

When I run the next two
relationships to the ground
I will tell myself it didn’t work
because they were not the one
for me.

Still then, I will beg myself
to stop looking in all the
wrong places
just to prove
love is not meant for me.

How many times can you look for
sea turtles in swimming pools and
belonging in half-hearted promises?


How many homes will you build out of paper
yet spend the night gathering every
scream lodged in your throat
to build you the boat you will
escape with in the middle of the night?

How many times will you say
it didn’t work because we weren’t right
for one another?

Didn’t your mother tell you
if you want to find what you are missing
you must not search with your eyes shut?
Eyelids crinkled,
palms shielding you
from every crack of light
begging to be seen.

You will blame the world
before you find fault
with who you keep for company.

You cannot blame
the darkness—
he is the only one
you ever let in.

Gave a call.
Rang twice.
Mailbox full.
Gave another.
Rang five times.
Lady's voice.
Unavailable.
Shower time.
Maybe after?
Brooding.
Longing.
Wet.
Wrapped in towel.
Look at phone.
No missed calls.
Typical.
No surprise.
Forget the phone.
Forget the caller.
Return to life.