Fire

"I'll use your bosom
for my pillow, little darling
when the world's on fire..."

i.e., 

there's no stopping
the apocalypse but
this is nice

Love

love has many faces
most of them
inappropriate

like

i was wide asleep
now in love i am
fast awake

like
 
memorizing his clothes today
in case i'm asked 
to describe them

like 

euthanization
we all know
i killed her

clues

little birds
eroticist
Anais Nin


quack
representation 
pettifoggery


a la depeche mode
but even more
synth-laden 


barfly
living the
lush life


ska!
soon you'll be
rocksteady

Broke

Two days ago a woman with a young son approached me and Daniel in the Westgate parking lot.  She needed money for one more night at the Motel 6 before getting a spot at Alpha House.  I noticed that her neck was scraped raw and bloody.  "I'm broke, and I don't know what to do," she said, with tears welling.  "Mom, I'm hungry," said the young boy.  "I know, I know," she replied.  I gave them the six bucks I had, told her I wished it was more.  Yes, this could have been a routine for this woman.  I've still been haunted by it.  The sequence of their approach and our interaction intrudes and recurs like the pivotal moment of a meaningful dream.  Daniel was quiet for hours, too, after that.  Our symmetry with that mother and son didn't escape him, I believe.  There but for the grace of god.  It doesn't really matter whether her story is "true."  I am singled out by that moment in time, my reaction to her is real, it's unexpected, and it means something. 

So many have fallen by the wayside.  So many are talented and motivated and successful.  There's pity I feel for some, and there's envy of others.  Same energy.  I'll buy your sad story and hope you're not conning me.  I still devote myself to whom and what I love, but it's been hard to accept that I'm now a good 15 years beyond the cuteness and youth that once softened the edges of my mediocrity.  

I may take a healthy break from my aspirations.  This morning I asked myself what would happen if I didn't fill my spare time with inferior singing and so-so puzzle-making.  What would I find out?

Miscellany

not so love sick
no, just so sick 
of love
_____

her kidneys are weak
but her meow!
still strong
_____

This paycheck to
paycheck life
this breadwinner fail
_____

I've got 
your whole number
my integral one
_____

wears a bowtie
tells fart jokes
my boy



 

 


 

 

It

You want to know why

I don’t like caterpillars.

It’s the way they cling.

They won’t just brush off,

these eyeless, grim cylinders,

grasping and writhing.

Fat truths will persist.

And we fall for butterflies

don't we?  Also true.

Refuge

   If I take refuge

   here with you, there will be no

   other love for me.

   I’m not biding time with you

   or killing it.  I can’t dream.

   Not in this winter

   of discontent.  You there, kind

   and deep and shining.

   Here’s one more poem about the

   oldest problem in the book.

   Add a smiley face  (-:

   Make the best of all you’ve built.

   Call it happiness.