Her heart beats a cadence
That compels my body forward.
Through fire I’ll walk,
They say,
Love will make you do crazy things.
And so I know now that
Love songs have an origin.
That I find myself doting,
Dwelling,
On her every soft breath and whispered thought.
Indeed I’m mad,
Crazy,
Impossibly,
in love with you.
Pulling the bucket up seventeen days in a row
More than ever before,
I wonder if I have reached the limit
Of my creative well.
Surprised I didn’t run out sooner.
She awoke overnight
under full moonlight.
I saw her popped
pinkness at breakfast.
Bursting fullness
top a thin green stalk
and bends it sideways.
She greets the sun.
Seven closed buds—
her restrained promise
wait in her scent
for their turn to please.
Together for years
already, they don’t expect
magic. But when they
say their vows, love rises up
& grabs us all by the throat.
That place where thoughts & ideas penetrate theories develop implementation set instructions given acquiescence prevails submission overtakes takes over power & release excitement fruition yes, please do me do me do me becomes tell me tell me tell me I deep listen
Chipper old women and giggling,
it’s the entitled, facing the homeless
it’s the popular kids in school, facing the unpopular
it’s the bully, facing the victim
it’s the politician, facing an angry constituent
it’s the consensus mob, facing one who disagrees
it’s one political side, facing another
it’s the race-obsessed, facing another race
it’s the self-righteous, facing the humble
it’s the hater, facing the hated
it’s the government, sending in troops
it’s the abortion doctor, ending a life
it’s also you
it’s also me
While mowing the field,
a bluebird swooped by me
after insects the machine stirred up.
I could see its rust belly and
its wings, a slightly different
hue of blue than the spring sky.
It was joined by another,
then another until a half dozen,
or so, whirled and twirled
up and down, round and round
preforming a complicated ballet
around me and the mower.
I was dancing with bluebirds.
It’s been such a long time since I’ve seen
My old friend
Their face: familiar, sunken
It’s been a while since I’ve felt that weight on my chest
Just heavy enough to make it hard to breathe, but light enough so that I can
I can’t remember the last time I felt this flush of warmth across my skin
I almost missed how I slow down, like I’ve got chains on my feet
Unable to move my body
Unable to recognize the passage of time
Unable to eat
Unable to even speak
Cotton stuffed in my mouth
Squeaking against my teeth
I could cry
The tears won’t come
But they almost do
