On our backs, under a moony sky
the water cradles us
as in a poured glass globe.
We hold hands
so the drift won’t
pitch us apart.
From the ancient, crumbled floor
a whiskery shadow
edges my knee.
I still see your hair spread—
a ghostly sea fan.
~ Found poem composed/modified from words in Jean Valentine’s poem, “Lines in Dejection”
You hunger to stand atop mountain peaks don’t you
to cast a shadow on all you’ve left behind
far from valleys swarming with hollow reeds
above murky cool tributary streams
beyond the reach of the tallest proud trees
You hunger for the ice of mountain air
to be absorbed by the view of space above and below
why do you run?
why do you climb?
why do you tense your tendons and pull your weight?
will the air fill your soul?
do you seek food and water up above?
and even yet
all you’ve left behind
wants for the same thing too
There is utility to my shame
It has me across from you
arms uncrossed
Look, if it wasn’t for Jesus I would have ruined my marriage.
I’ve been tempted to listen to
the advice from our father
I know the toxins polluting our blood
I’m too far redeemed to play chicken with sin
That sucker is a viper ready to bite me
Kept coiled by the promises of my FATHER,
the only reason I’m able to stand;
no longer a pretend Saint, but a desperate man
Brother, we don’t have to be ashamed
there’s no act on my own behalf
that accounts for the darkness in my heart
I earned the way I’m avoided by some
My only way out was to learn to be a son
His son
A gift given, but not cheaply
My King paid the debt
So I can live freely
I’m sitting across from you
You’re in pain
and what I know to do
is show you my shame
*
Once I told a work friend
that I want another child.
She turned it into a vicious rumor.
We never talked again.
*
Lily brought me flowers.
I put them in a vase.
An ant crawled out of the bouquet
and started circling the marble table.
On and on she went.
*
You are too innocent
workaholicing in your room.
Just too fucking innocent.
*
Hear that?
I’m allowed to say fuck
even if I say it with an accent.
*
As soon as I saw you this morning
I noticed your sad eyes .
*
two eyes
two arms
two legs
two breasts
two languages
two countries
two ex-husbands
two kids –
no wait – only one child
(one of the exes refused to discuss having children
year after year
until I ran out of time
then we both stopped talking)
*
Today I thought of you
and yelled
into the dishwasher
as I was putting away forks
and coffee cups.
Same kitchen.
I yelled out
a few questions
you’ve left unanswered.
Same sadness.
By the sea people
stroll as couples.
In Kentucky poets
write in couplets.
*
Someone makes an effort
to stay together
with Someone Else
though Someone Else
doesn’t seem to notice
Someone’s efforts.
Then something happens.
*
I don’t know if tourist season has arrived,
but airplane season is definitely here.
They all fly over my apartment.
Even metal birds know their route,
says a friend. In 22 days
I’m arriving in Kentucky.
Ears gone deaf to words,
to expository apologies,
that would surely be the best for both of us.
Speech spent, touch tarnished,
scent the only sense of fidelity
carrying me to the magic spruce of childhood.
Whipped up by the prevailing westerlies,
the loyal scent of spruce in fickle times.
We will wait together,
the spruce and I,
and the random flies that bite
in anticipation of the rain.
A toast to the wild spikes of laughter
to the scrubbed dishes and waxen kitchen
to the arguments with seven-year-olds
and wives to the desire to punch a random
stranger when walking past him on campus
to the opinions like an Etch-a-Sketch
to the feelings like lights at an EDM concert
a toast a toast and down the hatch the little
yellow disk drops down from tongue to stomach
and like magic everything is the same and
everything is different everything is a photograph
color-corrected just a touch everything goes
from neon fire to hot coals everything is a level
surface after an earthquake everything is steady
and I can breathe and you can breathe
and the wife and kids can breathe and the dog
can breathe and no one blisters so a toast then
a toast to the heat lost a toast to the warmth gained
Emerald green grass
Softly caresses my legs
Like the softest
kitty cat whiskers tickling
Sandals
Sneakers
Socks
Boxers
$20 for the Canteen
Shorts
Sweatpants
T-shirts
Hoodie
Bible to study and lead
Rain poncho
Toothbrush
Toothpaste
Comb
Ukulele for musical interludes
Shampoo
Soap
Sunscreen
Sheets
Playing cards for rest period
Pillow
Blanket
Towels
Swimsuit
Benedryl for allergies
shells.sand.stone.
I have carried for centuries
in boxes. in my heavy heart.
Lest I forget who I am
anymore.
