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There was a drowning on a beautiful day with kids passing a beach ball and teen drinking spiked lemon juice and me writing a poem, smiling at my cleverness and how lucky I am to worry only about how things sound or look when I hear a distant wail and I think it’s the kids … Continue reading
Warmth is just kinetic energy which is a real shame because we are immobile in bed and I can swear you’re sweating from our fight, or maybe those are just tears that have gone cold from movement. * Drag me to hell because at least I’ll have the heat without the inconvenience of the cancer of … Continue reading
I was left believing that I’d do anything for you but this is the left over bits of anything, and you have lost faith in us despite everything, which I suppose leaves me with nothing except this. * I want to write a line that would fix all of it but I only have this … Continue reading
I was with seven women in a week and I thought, man I must be something special, but I wasn’t and they weren’t either – laying there like bloated animals too slow to move after having their fill while looking at vultures’ legs circling in the cove ceiling or when they were cats cooing cats, scratching, purring, … Continue reading
I am convinced that there is nothing in this world like love, except for when love is torn away, ends, is no more, and will be no more for there is nothing in this world like love. * To watch the news is to learn what it is to feel old and helpless. * I … Continue reading
There is something in the way we stretch when a subway is empty that may be the closest we get to contentment found in the in between of then and now, where we are and where we need to go, and where, too, we can go if we got off here instead of there. * Ecstasy is … Continue reading
Write me a letter and I’ll see a dictionary of you and I in between the dear and period that is the first in English that goes on when after the end in my reply and in the lack thereof. * I wasted my hands wrangling this poem and your neck. * People read poems to get … Continue reading
What lies do we tell ourselves to tell ourselves to others, besides for the flaky truism that we are not lying to them, or to ourselves? * A subway rocks the modern lullaby for passengers who ooze and drool for a different parent that can be understood and changed and that is not stained with the sweat … Continue reading
Little matters until it matters because it mattered and because you are little compared to the excess of a grocery store in its heavy light and bubbly pop and you are holding two bags of chip trying to figure which you prefer, cool ranch or ranched cool, and you think either is fine because either is … Continue reading
Gurgle ink, spit-shine paper, wash in the warmest black until fingerprints fill and hair clumps and lips leave marks like ash in a hearth that could be construed as the chronicles of cavemen, and hope no one remembers your stained teeth reflecting against the well. * Write something just for me that leaves a stranger hoping it was … Continue reading
Mizpellt wurdz 