Wrapped in your smile, toes toying at the edge
Where your eyes' soft cloth blankets me,
Blocks the wind, and the cold, red brick below,
I and you, swim silent alone,
Hot and deep in a tiny, bright star,
Until turning you tug at the covers,
Dragging with your eyes this warm world,
And the cold rushes back, and the brick,
And the wind.

Noises from the street carry softly over garden walls,
Of passing cars and passersby, and I wonder;
Do you know, any more than they do,
How the corners of your lips, when they open,
Open not to show rows of white pearl,
But instead to consume my heart?

Angels bowling in heaven*, grandma always said;
I’d nod—it seemed plausible enough for a while,
Til I decided so much bowling sounded more like hell.

When I read stories about aesthetically electric worlds,
Places where everything pops and fizzes
Big giant arcs of radiant, swirling, scintillating *** and color,
With folks wild as devils;
It hurts me to live in no such place.

Walking one day some sidewalk in a downpour,
The gentle kiss of rain on face and hands,
Amidst a million identically imperfect droplets,
I spot one, darling Snowflake in the sky.

Thrusting with my hand I catch the fragile beauty;
Behold her limpid, gleaming crystal form;
Learn in my warm palm her unique glow;
Hope never to take from her my eyes again.

But far too hot with fire was licked my flesh,
Far too bright and burning lamped my gazing eyes—
My tender wet snowflake like a lonesome tear
Left my trembling palm and ran back to the sky.

When even now I walk in gentle rain,
Many years since and many soggy days;
Sometimes my tears will join the falling drops—
How could I love them, after knowing her?

Guys.
Girl by the milk machine

(I’d milk* her machine)

Fat stripes draped over trim curves—
Slats of blue, white, blue, white
Quietly surrendered to slender, silent
Black at middle-thigh; And I –
****!

[Yeah dude her *** is big—
If you’re into that]

Walking in a sloping district
Down an uneventful day,
A fossil rubber round, abandoned,
Found itself amidst our way.

Aha! And with some slight excitement
Set my friend upon the tire,
Upon its side he set the beast
Then rolling, gently let it fly
With just a touch; but balanced well

Despite disuse of many years,
It looked quite ready to revolve;
So natural it seemed to feel
That at this sudden turn of fate
An ancient, sleepy something stirred;

Remembrance of old spinning glories
Drove the hill-tire bottomward and
Building speed now every turn
More reckless, frantic than the last;
All just precaution soonly spurned
The rubber ring was flying fast.

In fact so fast, so far, so straight
Maneuvering the grade until
In happenstance it found a ramp
Some distance further down the hill;
A broken shard of tabletop
Astride some heaped-up garbage leaned,
Served duty fine to sky-ify
The rolling, racing, flighty fiend
And missile-make our eager hero;

Hero though no longer after
Smashing some poor stranger’s glass;
Fighting back our tumult
Quickly ran we for the summit,

Panting, bending at the top,
He turned to me, my friend and said:
*****…they usually stop

If I met you again tomorrow
Knowing you,
I would point to the sun and say:
I drew that for you
see
wrinkled in the rain.
But would you find me strange?

Would you trace love into my palm?
Tug on me to tug on you,
Arms and fingertips, skin and muscles
Made electric elastic between us?

Or would you stand…
Blink…
Awkward…ha ha… smile and
Get the hell out of there?

Quickly too, on bouncy toes
Leaving poor me
No choice but to chase you down,
Squeeze your shoulders and
Show you the future
In my eyes