My Guru Joined a Jazz Ensemble
wind
You say you want to wear a kilt
of brightly woven tartan wool?
You want to wear the older one
and not the stitched and fancy kind?
You’ll need a length of eight yards long
with just beneath a yard in width.
But if you’re tall, you’ll need more width
of tartan wove to wrap your kilt,
and if you’re wide you’ll need a long
piece, ten yards maybe of the wool
if you’re to wrap the older kind –
this is the more intriguing one.
You’ll need a leather belt, just one,
which must be longer than your width.
You’ll want the thick and buckled kind
as it will be what holds your kilt.
There is no stitching in this wool.
To put it on will not take long.
You lay your belt out flat and long –
a simple task. This is step one.
Now, on the belt you lay the wool
and fold the pleats along its width.
Not all the wool goes in the kilt.
We’ll do the sash-at-shoulder kind.
I beg, if you would be so kind,
just take the end part here that’s long
and lay it up above the kilt.
You see the ease in making one?
Now, lay yourself across the width
and with the belt pull up the wool.
Be sure you haven’t bunched the wool.
Cinch up the belt, and I’ll be kind
to help you straighten out the width.
I’ll tug it so it’s not too long
in this spot or another one,
and see, you’ve draped a fine great kilt!
You had the wool, it took not long to wrap your kilt,
you clever one, with length and width, the classic kind.
I need you when I wake in the morning,
and when it creeps, still—tardy evenday.
Still. Done and tardy, ours the evenday.
Crickets join the moonlit serenade,
moon’s sun-reflecting beams make serenade
and in time we share wood casks of wine.
Soft, ruddy ocean with flows of wine.
Wine pulls the rudder and the other.
By the rudder we lose each other—
parked along rivers I utter a great cry.
Take me to the river where no more I’ll cry—
I struggle always wherever I travel!
I struggle and wrestle, grapple and grovel.
I need you when I wake in the morning.
In a post office
In the leafless
lifeless
orchard
the few apples
that never fell
hang from trees
like men
lynched
in another time
and the days
turning colder
in the poetic
sense only
Part 1: The Breakup Message
I really adore you, but I’m not in love with you. I’ve genuinely enjoyed getting to know you and will always cherish the experiences we’ve shared. You’re a wonderful person, but I simply don’t see myself spending the rest of my life with you. I won’t pick you apart—that would be cruel, and you don’t deserve it. Please don’t change anything about yourself; your qualities that aren’t compatible with a long-term relationship with me might be exactly what someone else finds attractive. I’m flattered you’d want to keep working on things, but I’ve already moved on, and a clean break would be best for us. I don’t mean to seem cold, but I’m assuming you’ll need some space. If, however, you do need to talk more about the situation, I’m here for you.
Part 2: The Reaction
She was confused, upset, and immediately asked for more explanation. We had made more plans for the summer, and she stated everything had seemed fine, leaving her feeling completely blindsided.
Part 3: Reflection on Effort
I believe that’s simply what it looks like when someone gives 100 percent effort. You make plans, take risks, and truly enjoy the time spent together. I have no regrets; not every story ends in ‘happily ever after,’ and that’s truly okay. If I had never tried, we never would have known what could have been.
I take the flowers out of the makeshift vase
the Appalachian in me will always have a mason jar fit for any ocasion
this one now sits wide mouthed and empty
what’s left of the bouquet is wilted and dead in my hands
I can’t remember what they were for
my birthday, maybe a plea of forgiveness, a I loving reminder
Now forgotten and shriveled like the petals that crunch and fall away with each movement
a squeeze, a sway, a quick toss
there they lay
back to the earth they were plucked from
Humans making amends by destruction
Some say it’s a beautiful gesture
I think it’s a hideous reminder
The worst part
of taking off the nail polish
after a night out
or a weekend
or a vacation as myself
is not knowing
when I’ll get to be her again.
The thing I want more than
pierced ears
or dyed red hair
or maybe even breasts
is to have beautiful
polish on my fingernails
24/7.
A mani-pedi was
one of my first moments
of deep gender euphoria.
And, like an addict,
I’ve been chasing that high ever since.
For me, it never diminishes
until I have to get out
the acetone and cotton
and hide her beauty
again
until some unknown time.
If I could travel back in time
to the moment that I remember
seeing you in the hallway in sixth grade
maybe I could have just saved us both
a lot of heartbreak and wasted time
We could have just become best friends
way back then, been each other’s shelter
from the rain, place to call home–
when we didn’t have one, a soft place to land.
I would could have been with you sooner
so I could have loved you longer.