Sunday, August 26, 2018

My Own

Clouds never rest, nor the wind, dear
The sun never travels too far
The moon and the sea live without fear
And we’ll always be what we are

Always I’ll be the one needing your face, miss
More than anything else in the world
Always I’ll be the one singing your praises
And always you will be my girl

By being the one that I need, dear
You’ve shown me the meaning of living
And by being the one that you want near
I’ve learned the true joy of giving

Now it’s never no more we’ll be sad, love
And we’ll never again be alone
For we’ve turned into good all the bad, love
By each calling the other “my own”

Saturday, August 18, 2018

Collar Bone

I want to kiss your collar bone,
the one you broke when you were twelve
and fearless
and you thought that you
could make your bike fly further than
the rest.
Or, perhaps it wasn’t fearlessness.
Maybe you just thought
that you could fly,
or wanted to.
Wanted to so badly that you
deemed the risk worth taking.
But bikes can’t fly,
and a broken bone is not such
a very high
price to pay for a moment of weightlessness.
I know it’s never stopped hurting,
that’s why I want to kiss it.
Not to erase the pain,
but to respect it,
embrace it,
honor it.
You’ve suffered other breaks,
other losses.
You’ve received other scars through the years.
None of them ever really stop hurting, I know.
Not all the breaks were physical.
Not all the scars are visible.
I wish that I could kiss them all,
but I’ll start with just the collar bone
for now.

Sunday, August 5, 2018

The Waitress’s Lament

Hypothetical crab cakes and theoretical shrimp
I understand it can be hard to make a choice
Just let me know when you’ve decided
I’ve got all the time in the world, boys

Medium well or medium rare, or somewhere in between
You wouldn’t know the difference either way
I’ll tell the chef, but he won’t care
And it won’t be how you like it anyway

Just because I’m nice to you that doesn’t mean I like you
And even if I do like you that doesn’t mean I’ll date you
You’re not allowed to touch me, sir, it’s not that kind of place
You should know that, in my mind, I’m sticking this fork in your face

Our menu has 10 appetizers and 15 entrees
6 desert options and 7 kinds of cheese
The total possible combinations is just over 700
And I can recite them all to you with ease

Yet you assume I’m an idiot because I work in this place
While you’re the fool eating fish fried in three-day old oil.
Gluten free pasta and lactose free ice cream? Fine
Whatever stupid shit your order, I’ll bring it with a smile.

Just because I’m nice to you that doesn’t mean I like you
And even if I do like you that doesn’t mean I’ll date you
You’re not allowed to touch me, sir, it’s not that kind of place
You should know that, in my mind, I’m sticking this fork in your face

Sunday, July 29, 2018

Roses and Ivory

Roses and ivory, she appears to me
Smooth and pure, lit from within
Floating toward me, light as air

Ivory turns to downy flesh and
Roses become soft, sweet lips
And she surrounds me, she’s all around me

I hang the moon on a chain for her
I sing the music of my blood for her
And she feeds me kisses from deep in her soul

Aphrodite guides us down and lifts us up
I quench my thirst at her fountain, we fall
Tumbling, twisted, tangled in desire

This dance of ours, this sharing, caring
Dance of sweat and tongues and hair
This frenzied thing that brings such peace

Then resting my devoted head in her denim lap
As a song about the rain falls all around us
And the love we’ve made still echoes in our ears

The only place I ever want to be
Is in the emerald eyes of this woman that I love
Enveloped by the roses and the ivory

Saturday, July 21, 2018

The Blood

In the quiet times alone
I remember the blood, mostly
I see it in dreams, both asleep and awake
I know, objectively, it wasn’t much
But, relatively, it seemed a flood
Dark red, smooth at first, as it pooled beneath his head
But then frothy, bubbly, as the phlegm mixed in
--I’m ahead of things, maybe
Before the blood was the thud
I wasn’t quite asleep or awake, only partially aware at 2:30am
                (that’s an estimate, I didn’t check the clock,
                but based on subsequent time stamps for calls to siblings
                at 3:06 and 3:12, I think it’s close enough)
He was face down on the hardwood, halfway out of the bathroom
He was breathing, I could tell because his chest (or, his back, I suppose) was rising and falling
Also, because his breath pushed the pooling blood, spreading it ever wider toward the linen closet
And then he wasn’t
Nothing was moving
Everything stopped
The 911 operator told me what to do
(I forgot to tell you I had called 911)
I followed her directions, even when I thought I couldn’t
I remember saying “FUCK” a few times
*Turn him over – FUCK
*Clear his airway – FUCK
*Breathe in his mouth twice – FUCK
*Press on his chest ### times (I don’t remember how many time she said) – FUCK
I pressed – FUCK
I pressed again – FUCK
He breathed, coughing spitting more blood
Then I faded into the background as police, EMTs, firemen appeared from nowhere
They took over as I became observer
I still see the blood now, these months later
And taste it
He lived, for 16 more days
I saved him, they told me
But saved him from what? Delivered him into what?
More blood?
Tubes and wires and straps
Stitches and surgeries
2 weeks of living in a twilight of indignities and pain
I washed the floor later, there’s no visible blood there now
I washed the towels that the rescuers used too, the ones they pulled out of the linen closet
I washed those 3 times, then twice through the dryer
They show no signs
Perhaps neither do I
But I’ll never be rid of the blood

Sunday, July 15, 2018

My Prayer

A kiss, and a kiss
And so on, and so on
World without end, Amen
That’s the prayer for me
No theology
No doctrine
No doxology
Just a kiss, and a kiss
And so on, and so on
World without end, Amen

Saturday, June 30, 2018


your secrets
and confessions
have been placed in a safe beneath my bed

our intimate moments
are secured forever in the safest of lockboxes

    you should not


your treasures
are safely tucked away and out of sight
safely hidden from all would-be burglars