Saturday, February 25, 2017

You Should Make An Effort.

Three days in a row at, or close to, 70 degrees Fahrenheit in Massachusetts. It's February, and we're loving it - polar bears and sea ice be damned. A Brazilian bartender made me two strong caipirinhas this afternoon, and I felt fine for a while, driving around the city with my elbow out the window. There was no one beside me to laugh with, but you have to get over seeing that as some kind of negative state. Like compare it to now, for example. I'm typing this tensely in a room full of people. There's a man playing guitar - open mike night. People around me are eating, talking about their food, about being dropped from someones snap chat. I'm thinking I should be serving a higher truth, what am i doing here? The singer is now singing Gordon Lightfoot's "In the Early Morning Rain" .  I feel a little better. When he finishes, I'll clap, the two chatty, 18 year old girls beside me will look at me blankly, and the besotted fruit fly will continue circling my glass. 

Thursday, February 23, 2017

Fate, You Said

Call him the dupe of Chinese fate.

Destiny calls one "Lover"
he's bleeding his offering,
feeling his was deeper
into his Beloved

Destiny names one "Beloved"
she's holding her Lover vaguely
looking over his shoulder
wanting something else

Saturday, February 18, 2017

A Certain Way

The sun arrives today hinting at Spring,
even though the promise is mostly false,
you like how it sounds coming out of her
mouth, the birds do too.

Last night I laughed with strangers,
hard and well, and it made me realize
how long it's been since I used those
muscles, making a friend.

Tuesday, February 14, 2017

Just Tuesday

Work kept me focused and busy most of last night and all day
today seeing plenty of things worth writing about like the
cleaning ladies liking my salt and pepper saying I should
have kept my little mustache and beard, one is newly married
and su esposo brought a big bouquet and chocolates to work
but for me it's just Tuesday - and that's it - almost confining me
from the memory of how tender I was and how long you will be

Friday, February 10, 2017

A Mind Of Its Own

A voice mail saved for seven or eight
months now, I listened to it today.
The sound of your voice hurt a little, but
at the same time it ignited the process 
which used to result in my heart kind of soaring, 
but I intervened before it was touched off, 
not wanting to fly just to fall, as I do,
and then I accidentally deleted it.

Thursday, February 9, 2017

Snow-psych (gone now)


Staying home through the snowstorm
after very nearly sliding off the road
in the early morning, glad they didn't
shut the wireless down like I told them
to, now I have means to pass the
time beyond staring out at the snow
remembering past snow storms holed
up and snug with someone I wanted to
be with. I'm alright like this, here
with only my self and the blowing snow,
my memories becoming more about
looking out windows and pining than
about who I was actually pining for. 

Saturday, February 4, 2017

For Now

Twelve hours of sleep
and I wake up erased.
This is the way to let
time pass - without
remembrance or
desire. Wake up,
step out, move

Wednesday, February 1, 2017

The Gods Look Down In Anger On This Poor Child

When you coming back?

The room smells bad - squalid
evidence of babies, drugs, condoms
talks about how cutting himself
evolved into an addiction to
being tattooed

medical marijuana, willing to share
sister wants to go to the mall
enters in her underwear - all curves
unconcerned with my presence

The rest of the apartment
would make you gag
trash and shit and a toddler
living here with no apparent
source of nourishment

Beautiful black hair and dark eyes
the black rings below indicating trauma
probably and sleeplessness making
you wonder how anyone ever
gets to feel safe anywhere

Turning to wishes, you declare
everyone deserves someone
who strokes their hair until
they fall asleep but that
means less than shit now