we are haunted by cradles
and the nursery rhymes we sing
to cover the sounds of sobbing
we can’t stop the tears
our employers complain of the noise
but they pay us at the end of the day
and so we watch our charges weep
foot on wood rocking them
back and forth
back and forth
until mommy and daddy come in
to give a kiss goodnight
I.
it was the morning after
you fucked me the first time—
falling into each other
after the movie,
trying not to stop early
becuase i was scared i’d shit
it was the morning after
you told me you loved me
(of course, this was just casual sex)
& when i woke in the middle of the night
in a panic, you grabbed me, it’s okay,
& held me against your chest
it was the morning after
when you made me coffee
harvested from your hometown
(knowing i like it black) &
prepared a SPAM, egg, & swiss sandwich
on whole wheat toast
it was the morning after
when i thought i couldn’t love anyone’s
slender fingers more, watching you
makeup your face, laugh with your mom,
piss in the tub to save water, & i could
almost forget you chastising me
it was the morning after
you fucked someone else,
when you sent me off
with banana bread, protein bars,
& coffee (because you don’t like when i
don’t eat), & i drove you to the airport
it was the morning after
when you looked at your phone
more than me, talked to your roommates
while i cried in the bathroom, hugged me,
said you’d walk me out, & instead,
just walked me to the door
II.
i’ve learned i don’t like sleeping alone
or showering alone—even when
i cook, i can’t help but think
of your hands & your dance
& my smile, although i was always
in your way, following you like a dog
i was driving alone (not to your
place) down a small road, near
a creek, with the windows down, &
i saw two small white butterflies
twirling upward—i couldn’t tell if
they loved or hated each other
(& then i started to cry)
III.
standing by myself
in the kitchen,
i wash my hands
because there’s a leak
in the bathroom sink
the soap is just some simple
fragrance, you say, but i love
how it smells
i forgot how strange
it feels to kiss someone new
we didn’t even hook-up,
but at midnight, when i left,
the late-night-tea-drinkers in the courtyard
stared at me like i was
some clandestine lover
Belongings on one chair,
body on another,
arm stretched
across a third,
where a woman
inconveniently
takes up the seat,
looking uncomfortable
and trying
to be as small
as possible.
Watching this,
one can imagine
the man
as an oversized balloon
squeezing itself
into every crevice
until a woman
comes along
with a brooch
and pricks it,
watching it woosh
upwards,
away.
You are stuck in neutral
An idea that no one truly loves you,
You won’t accept it
And who’s to blame you?
With a mother who loved drugs more,
And a lonely father showing you no other way
And you’ve taken care of yourself for so long
Like an engine running on old oil
You’re stubborn, stuck in your ways
You don’t really let anyone in
And trust isn’t in your vocabulary.
And independency isn’t a bad thing,
I dabble in it myself.
I’m not asking you to change,
I’m just asking you to take the car out of neutral
And maybe you’ll see that down that road
There are beautiful opportunities
Opportunities that won’t affect your independency
Ones that will show you there is love in the world
Opportunities that will fuel new experiences and ideas
Put it in drive
i’ve heard words say, “Eyes are
mirrors of a soul”
en cap sulated minor miseries
EXPLORATIONS in spaces
With traces of fizz . . . & FIRE
F. Scott loved Zelda they burned
one sordid flamin’ trail
never re-gretted nor forgetted . . .
Gatsby saw the lite in the fog pretended
to be a Blue Blood
pre-tended to swim sin bubbles
bloated on a sultry dream . . .
drank too many to float
I have fallen in love
with the tech
at my CVS pharmacy:
He remembers my birthdate,
when we all wore surgical masks,
his eyebrows would smile
when I reached the front of the line.
I Don’t Fear Being Alone.
I Don’t Fear Death.
I Don’t Fear Being Forgotten.
i fear that i may never love myself
i fear that if i pushed myself to do
my best i would still be disappointed
i fear what i may do to myself in the face
of this disappointment
more than i fear never knowing
my grasp of frailty is tenuous
I am aware that every insect is equal in the eyes of god,
