I'm restless again
six years in the same place

taking refuge in plane
trips to the same place

I look at the Atlas
& stick pins

in all the spots
that she has been

my mother
the accidental explorer

China, America
Japan, Italy

France, Germany
& Spain

rewards
after a life

behind
the Iron Curtain

going on field trips
even then

Mongolia
Siberia

I grew up
in freedom

yet have
never been

past
my past

I'm still chasing it
can this last

Six years
in the same places

Capital city gal
turned small-town child

I want to go wild
spin the earth round

in my direction
change my reflection

feel my feet
on new ground

I'll stick pins
in all the places

I could find
myself in

& write
self-addressed

envelopes
to send postcards in

because
you never know

what the day
will bring

Beware
this poem
is very long

I'm a tea-boy. You're a coffee-girl.
I leave my tea bags in for so long
that the steam-water turns heavy

and black

like the coffee you love. But
you takes yours with milk.


...


I don't.

Why is it
That the biggest hearts
Are emptied the fastest?

And the brightest souls
Are blackened
The quickest?

We meet by the lockers
at break
I'm still amazed
that this school
has Cheerleaders
that basketball
not rounders & netball
is the sport played
that we study
the Cold War
' Of Mice & Men'
& the War in Vietnam
that we have 'Hitzenfrei' days
that our German teacher
always forgives our mistakes
that boys & girls
hang out together
that we put on musicals
I've never heard of
That we celebrate the fall of the Wall
that we take school trips
to Concentration Camps
that there's no uniform
that the teachers
rarely explain anything
that the word ' rubber'
doesn't mean ' eraser'
here but something else
that there are stereotypes
like 'nerd' & ' prom queen'
that we welcome grafitti
that we believe in Love
above any kind of Study
that we have the freedom
to pick & choose our failiures
without being sent
to the Principal's office
that we read Kerouac
Carl Sandburg & Ginsberg
that nearly everyone
has lived in at least
two or three
different countries
that we rarely fight
that my crush
plays trumpet
in a ska band
that we go
to the nearby Lakes
on weekends
& the English language cinema
on Tuesdays
that we celebrate Halloween
bit by bit I nearly forget
my All Girls school days
in soggy Britain
where I had no friends
where we sang hymns
every single morning
where we didn't practice
the Love we preached
where our future
was crumbling old Oxbridge
where we had a coat of arms
where we had houses
named after the merchant ships
of our Founder  from the 1600ds
where we didn't dream
of becoming Presidents
or Astronauts but Academics
forever lost in musty books
the flower of our youth, wasted


Hitzenfrei days were days in summer when we were let off school because it was too hot.
Wall - Berlin Wall

Not in some tower, somewhere
locked tight is she, but here
under blood and bone.

She rages like ocean tides
on the chiseled edges of me
that poorly attempt to contain her.

Be still, I plead
I’m trying to be logical,
yet still she storms.

It’s candid to say that
even I am afraid
her force will conquer me.

It's never quite as romantic as they make it out to be.
These trips to France
or Spain
or Germany.
To the misty mountains of Iceland,
the wine-toasting grottos of Italy.

The romance comes about a half-hour before sun rise.
Catching, counting
and losing count
of the stars you see in her eyes.
In those sincere sighs
that come after the heartfelt goodbyes
and the soft smiles in those happy hellos:
Those are the ones
that let you know.

Romance is not a place:
It's a person.
And when you find them,
hold them close
and never let go.
Or you'll be destined to dwell on the past
and to dream only of tomorrow.
With a head full of regret
and a heart full of sorrow.

Don't let it happen to you
like it happened to me.
Hold her close, for heaven's sake:
Or lost
you will forever be.