Poem of the Week
The Trickery of One-Sided Love
* written 04/04/04 *
I had been with myself for months.
It was the first full moon of spring.
Your public affection threw me
in the river and I couldn't swim with
all that alcohol in my belly.
So I drove to The Heights alone.
A cobweb of a boy with
my tires singing out and
Venus creeping carefully
onto my dashboard.
My bed was cool.
Fresh pillows and clean sheets
yawning under and over me,
you were there in my arms until
first light when I awoke alone again.
- Monday, October 25, 2004 The Same Thing
* i wrote this in miami on january 13th, 2001. *
Aeroplanes in smaller packages,
faster than sunbeams and
clouds that disappear
like misty breath.
You were in my room and
twelve years later,
the same thing.
No umbrella for your remembrance,
No lover for your embrace.
Just palm trees
curved slightly
under a bending moon,
a roll of waves,
and a jet over the sea
going somewhere,
going fast and
heading for that unreachable line
we call the horizon.
Twelve years and
the same thing,
the same thing.
- Friday, October 15, 2004 The Moment The Year Makes Sense
We are small creatures,
as brave as barnacles and
as frightened as wolves,
walking past vibrant windows
and whistling eastward,
ignoring graveyards and
robbing the bird's nest.
In the summer we grow lazy
like fat tomatoes
and rest like leaves in a gutter.
And in winter we are lazier still-
an old bone and
blanket-covered sofa.
But come spring we are rising bread.
we shape beaches and
fall in love so easily-
coffee at two in the morning
and a bloody mary at dawn.
What happens in the fall?
we spy a waning sun,
a sleepy moon,
and desire our ornaments,
our deep vein slumber
and drool in our pillows
until a needle wakes us up.
- Wednesday, October 06, 2004 poem of the week archives