bus out of town

I talk too much
and get beat down
with silence
a foolish pollyanna
a sucker for a kind word

from someone who can’t be bothered
with the emotional side of things
some women
are built for speed-
I was built for empathy

all fine and good at 20
with big plans
idealism anyone-
certain it would pan out
at some point

but giving up feels good
at this moment
forgetting dreams-
I can’t give you something
you won’t take

and you can’t accept what you see
as no more than a token
the love it represented
beat up and taking the bus
to warmer climates

Running

Wrapped in brown paper
they sent me off
and away-
I could not see
when I flew over
your house
waving
or the ocean
or the park

It was too dark
but I smelled you there
you call it nonsense
voodoo
a trick-
baby-
like animals
I could sense you
anywhere

Even out of sight
of those wild
eyes of yours
hypnotizing me
into slumber for
years
not seeing anyone
but you-
was that
trick or treat

Always me on top
you managed to tie me
to you- even with
your ankles shackled
my demands
usurped
by your terms-
anarchy

An uprising
of the most personal
and nothing
could keep me from you
giving up sustenance
maybe my life
until I cut loose
running

What was to be done
about that double bond-
I ran you
you ran
circles about me
separated only
by flesh ripping
hearts breaking

the (our) last time

 

I thought you were there
then could not find you
twisting around to reach for you
(suddenly) feeling very alone
in cool-accusing winds from the lake

your hands nearly frozen
from all the dips in the sea
that great ocean of deceit but
(I blame me) for staying for being
so addicted to (us and) you and me

I looked behind me and beside me
(reading and re-reading your mail)
with the single intent of smearing
my lipstick over all your body
until they drove you to the ER

when I finally find you
they will be so sure
that you are bleeding
and you are-you know
bleeding (me)
you are bleeding me

double-edged affair

text:

are we close?
are we tight-
is the big red bow
topping off this affair
so very impressive, do you say-

isn’t it grand to walk hand in hand
around battery park
to hold your head and hair for you
when the ferry makes you sick
isn’t it something out of this world
to know what I am thinking and
to finish your sentences- ain’t it great

how this double-edged sword nicks us
each time we rub elbows
but we never feel it
having the nerve to be surprised
when blood rolls down our hands
give me another word for how
two hearts feel they beat as one
a snare drum heading up a parade down main street
that they all can see and hear

don’t they talk, don’t they wish us well
already seeing our future
as parents and owner
of acres of whitewashed fence
isn’t it grand
leaning and knowing
it is safe to sleep away the hours
the night turning into daybreak
a thief of all our good sense

in a pile on the sofa
your whiskers against my forehead
Bogey passing the hours
on a continuous loop on the screen
his voice echoing in the high ceiling of your loft
saying “I lived a few weeks while you loved me”
and all the while we eat up time
and no one tells us it will not last

a secret code in the club
we don’t talk about intimacy-
we only talk about puppy love
the stuff that daydreams are made of
and no one tells you
that they see the end coming
except afterwards
when you cry in your beer

(that will) leave a mark

leave-a-mark.jpg

he was kind and soft
and said the right words
had a tattoo he said
on his right shoulder
and every other Sunday
he visited his aging granny

I doubted that he could
take on the world
and every time I watched him
drop a name
I got less and less sure
we’d make it past 1st base

we continued down the path
we’d set off onto
fog in places
slip-n-slides on obscure ramps
depositing us
into the mire of expectations

were we not clever
beating the doubters
coming down to fault
stalwart in our apologies
and I forgave him profusely
but I do not miss him, still

let’s talk about

 

they don’t like
when we whisper
another name in bed
when we are far away
and they cannot be sure
just where

they don’t like
when we disappear
during a conversation
it hurts their feelings
if we do not listen
or pretend to have
listened

wearing a new cologne
after so many years
raises a flag
an angry red warning
that the ground beneath
he and me
may be made of sand

my confidence
coming back after the wreck
mentally-physically-emotionally
being so long
there
then suddenly
here

brings relief
but more than a little
doubt

rhythm and blues

you have muted me
apathetic arrows
slicing through
leaving me silent
I wish you would yell
for we have forgotten
the start
the hum of us

how we were
when I read your thoughts
and you
finished my sentences
at times
with a laugh
but they are harder
to come by now

dear moments
swept out-saved up
tenderness’s
priceless and irreplaceable
make good placemats now
and coasters
to keep rings
off the table