Sunday, April 8, 2012

Solitary Easter Morning

Timid text message, I crept into the place

Wondering how awkward I was about to make your life

A friendly touch, that place where I’m ticklish

Sunny greeting, warmer than last weekend

Our conversation began the way it always does

School, work, music, theater, soccer, hooping

Moving

Public venue, smells of sawdust, ringing ears

Corner bar, drinks on me, chasing one another

Your car, the one I wrote that song about,

Thinking you’d never in a lifetime hear it

Until I sang it drunkenly, but still—you noticed

Call me out, we can laugh about that now

Surrounded by friends, yours, maybe mine

Darcie, dying to know the girl whose leg his hand rests upon

Submerged in color, sound, and you

Smoky blue-green glaze, my old vice

Wide, unsecured, water-warped floorboards

Carpeted stairs, the traffic-worn way, smooth under bare feet

Four walls, three months in between

Two memories needing no refreshment, one swift gesture

Awakening to the unknown and the fondly recalled,

Desperately trying to savor those too-soon sinking seconds

Supported by your hands, singing my incorporeal reality

Not much use for the concept of god, thanking it anyway,

To no one’s credit but yours, my friend

A crippling, ethereal moment of delirium

Unity with the face of refusal, detached tenderness

And sleep, my sweet-tempered, agile associate

Two familiar shoulderblades, exposed and white

Breathing, pull me near, that I might, for a moment

Erase from my attention the days that will pass

Before the pads of your fingers trace the line of my soul again

Burn the bacon, turn on sports, make me smile

Simple start to a simple charade,

“He’s not my b—” I tried to protest when she asked my name

Wonder what Boswell will be saying Monday morning,

But I didn’t stand a chance through all that make-up

There’s formality in leaving, you’ve taught me that, too

And in introduction; Jacob, meet my bed-headed hippie friend,

She hides naked behind trees, waving at you

Because you are the sine qua non to her rapture

Kiss me goodbye in front of your friend, a bold surprise

But one I cannot read into, we’ve been here before

Come to think of it, we’ll be here again, too

We both know, so we are both careful

Until, again, our lungs fill with one another

I’ll catch you around.

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

Playing with Joelle

Roses are red,
Your undies are brown,
If you weren't my bestie,
I'd really be down.

Olives are yummy,
Sometimes the truth hurts,
No more blind dates,
Because that was the worst.

Vodka and Cranberry
Will do the trick
Just one more ground rule:
Chicks before dicks.

Some boys are pretty,
But when a girl's blue,
Not much is better
Than a best friend like you.

Monday, March 12, 2012

Sugar Baby Blue

Warmth, the first in months; rain on sun-dried pavement

Tender, winter-hidden skin exposed to the new season

Deep breath. Sweet smell. Not Burberry, but better

Teal twirl, slick-skipping moccasins, cherry hair

Run for lunch, windows down, dewy droplets clinging to my forearm

Breathing space spiced by a cinnamon-stick cigarette

Partner in crime in the passenger seat…where she belongs

Laughter like ours doesn’t ring; it’s not cliché like that

Like those unfettered stanzas boys used to send me, I made them insane

You and I aren’t thinking of them today, talking dresses and dreams

I painted a new face on this one-horse town

Because I’m done swinging from his tire swing

No more bare-feet-in-the-grass-type romps for this sugar baby

Chill, the sun sets, and so sets in my hesitation

Hours of typing, reading, replying, wasting my time trying

Your fancy name and your motorcycle rally can’t save you here, I see you

But it’s okay, it’s almost like no one ever taught you any differently

An apartment, the carpet coarse with tiny seared craters

The furniture, too; sheets, pillows, blankets, books

White lie, you barely ever smoke in there, it airs out well

First chance, only chance, no second chance, that’s the way it is

A parking lot, a jewel-box bank, your partner in crime, his passenger seat

Secret swill, spit into the newsprint which stains my fingers

Not allowed to call, tethered to the blue and whites

Gray lie, this is the last of the legal trouble, six more months, and it’s done

Second chance, only chance, no third chance, that’s the way it is

A romantic night, a second date, seasick to my stomach

Country fried steak sloppy and heavy on your plate, but nevermind

Kiss me underneath an amber streetlight, my lips are better than your drug

Black lie, it was beautiful waking up beside you, take a number, come again

Third chance, only chance, no more chances, that’s the way it is

Isn’t it?

Warmth, the first since yesterday; sunlight on my single bed

Arms and legs, wrapped around no one else

Deep breath. Sweet smell. Like freedom, but better

Gilded spark, defiant dance, head held high

Conversation with Cody

Well, boo,

What it comes down to

Is that I liked you

Since the day I met you,

And I want what I can’t have,

And I know that,

But I’m a spoiled little kid,

So I’m gonna play it

Like I own the situation.

Written When I Could Not Sleep

Despondent glances cast between us in the memory you composed

Overlooking words I long to say, long for you to know

Under assumption of greater things, which need not be discovered

Gleaming skin and dying eyes of a clandestine lover

Left alone, fatigued, bereft, jaded in my tension

And you, my dear, superb, unfazed, immune to our dissention

Somehow I cannot look away, somehow I cannot flee

Zero-hour closes in, I must find sanctuary

Every note, a memoir, hand-addressed to your spite

Pressing, I hope, on your heart, that you might feel my cry

Keeping in tradition, before I realize my worth

All that I have given you, flung harshly in the dirt

Sunday, March 11, 2012

Day 4

Sick and sleepless

Eyes, wide with disbelief

This untruth, this lie, this fable

And supreme awareness belongs to me

Not sure what you were thinking

Face, defiled by sorrow

Sick and sleepless

Sleepless and sick

Hands, dry, just like yours

Working, formulating, preparing

To hold one of yours between my own

Might kill me on a night like this

Lips, burned by the cold

Sleepless and sick

Sick and sleepless

Throat, choked by request

Secrets of best friends and lovers

Deception kept quite separate, clever boy

Return to me, spill your invention

Heart, undaunted and strong

Sick and sleepless