Oh yes.  You ARE jealous--



(sonnet #MMMMMMMCMXXVIII)


Thou and thy hangdog airs!  In sheer betrayl,
You started it.  My brother told me thence
Who left?  and I said "...I don't care from hence
Cuz--(nevermind)."  So who is now to scale
'Non showing off that, erm, I do?!  In frail
Excuse for all this foolishness, whose sense
Has fueled this madness?!  Yours, for all intents.
Yet wherefore do we thus go on sans bail?
I swear, no sooner do I throw as twere
The towel in on this game, but lo, twon't do.
You're back in gear to circumvent my poor
Attempts at moving on.  You like me too?
No, that can't be.  But oh!  Tomorrow.  You're
What, eh?  Not jealous of my smiles, are you?

01May19b

Thinking about heading west again.
Except now it’s real. Maybe a basement
apartment in the suburbs. Or just somebody’s old bedroom.
My mom says I need to slow down. Rest.
She knows I’ve been sick for months.
But then I would have to start thinking again.
On the way to her house, this morning,
there were two pickup trucks parked by the train tracks.
The sky hurt to look at - what else is new.
Something hurts inside too – a place I can’t pinpoint.
I want to drive and listen to sweet music.
But should I leave when I came so close to losing you?
I don’t want to be half a world away
if the ground breaks. You think the desert
sounds good for me – it does, it does.
It’s so hard to tell when you’re happy for me.
We have the same sad eyes, the same predisposition
for addiction – same blood, too thick. That side
of my family reads like a warning label.
The other side – less clear – I spent a lot of time
with family last week. Finally I piece together
that maybe my mom is the black sheep. Not
in the traditional sense – but a runaway, scared.
I’m scared too. Not of the same things, always.
I don’t mind being alone at the train station.
My dad says he wanted to tell me in person –
it’s hard to believe now. He still doesn’t want
to talk about it. So I tell him I’m moving –
but it’s the least excited I’ve been.
Maybe I should take the guest bedroom
and just call it quits.

Yo Dude
Are you supposed to
Be where you are

My heart begins to beat again.
And I'm afraid of
What that means for me;
My heart is still empty
My mind still recovering.
All these different feelings
Rushing back into me,
The world in front of me almost
Unchanged
Increasing in vibrancy.

The people have not changed
And my feelings for them have not changed
And yet
What is the meaning of these
Resurfacing feelings?

Take me away...
Before I am swept away
Again.

a cracked slab of
concrete
knocked
on the front door.

"i ache of
tread and
winter
wind."

it shuttered,
turned a frigid purple
(by
winter
solstice),
and looked
at its watch.

(5:55 A.M.)

another repetition
of an engine revving.

another star
brilliantly,
silently,
waving
goodnight.

another coffee cup
becoming
hot
and then,
becoming
cold.