Lost and found

Startled and afraid in your empty house from the sound of your
own foot stepping on an old wood board. Click, then echo,
then the long creek. Followed by another. Followed by another.

First is the swallowing panic, then it is horror,  then the crazed fear grows into the chest gripping, to finally your ears ring so loud you can’t  hear if it is you screaming or a siren some where far off in the next town over

It hard to live soft enough
Not to wake up the fear
that hides in awareness

You are here
And Henry is not

123 and

You can keep the smile
I have months of those

I want pie and flannel
I want good boots and you
To have sex with me

And fall asleep as i talk about coffee and the perfect brewing temperature to bring out the right flavor molecules

Speaking of flavor molecules and temperature…

Oh hell

Don’t tell Henry

When he is not here
I think about his penis
And his pussy kisses
and his piggy nose

Pressed against my

Well

You get the point

Don’t tell Henry
I don’t want him to know
I think of him
It will make him strut about
This shit hole

Practice

I woke up today and I was clear

In my whole life I never ordered room service
in a riot
no matter how hungry she gets
I never feed her. The monster
is a trapped black hole.
She screams and threatens
-begs and promises.

I listen carefully so I can duck her next blow or sidestep her strong
grab and pull

She wants power.  She wants to make me jump or bend or break.
She wants to order my universe around and when it doesn’t listen she wants to jam her fingers into it and bounce it off and out of my  existence.

Jellyfish

There is a jellyfish that doesn’t  die.

It grows old and then young again and then old and then young in a circle of cycles in a lake living on and on and on

I want to eat one

See -its ok

Be soft.  Be gentle. Be

The world is going to beat
the fuck out of you and when
you can take no more you will be
dead

Don’t smoke
I don’t and I feel fine
now

Love

doesn’t endure.
But it does make the time
Seem pleasant and important

When the warm huggy thing climbs into our arms and legs and brains
Spreads and thickens
Our breath is even
Our smile slight
And us existing feels

Shiny bright

Monsters

Dear Henry,

Right before you died I kissed
your thin lips. You could not move your body but your lips quivered

You are the only monster I kissed

on the mouth

Then you growled a deep and raspy, far away  “I love you.”

You were dead after that, Henry

I didnt say

                   Good bye
     

Freedom

Horse shit broken dick ear
Slimy pony fucker
I hope you are free
Tomorrow when the sun explodes
I hope you are alive and free of nets
Even though you said unpopular horrible stupid stuff
I hope you are never silenced
from spewing rancid words upon innocent ears and you thrive on to other bad jets of reason
I hope that in the last morning you are still here to speak of neural cells and puppy tails and cold blue waters with love so sickly sweet
It makes all cuss and swear at your idiot hands and subjective mind
I hope you are free to tell everyone there is no god or you are a bugger or the great jesus reincarnated
This is a path. It is dangerous and dirty. It is full of hopes and steps backwards and stupid fucks

and I hope you are on it

guilt is a funny thing

 

 

 

it doesn’t matter if you knew better

or if you were doing your best with

the knowledge you had

 

if your own hindsight doesn’t shame you

someone else’s will

 

if it doesn’t, you’re probably not human

 

I used to be something like ham

I used to be something like ham.

or was it the plate full of ham juice… I can’t recall now.

I am a washcloth – at least that is what I have gained

from my surroundings and what I am used for

I miss you too.  More for selfish reasons.

when I was with you I was

a friend

a ham friend but still a friend.

I think I had blood and cellular division

Now its all cotton and wrinkles

repetitive motions and now now now

What happened to the past

When did the future disappear

What where these things

Was their point so sharp

they had to be discarded completely

I don’t know.  I wash things

I scrub the beautiful living and the containers

that hold things that life uses

Perhaps I will transform again

maybe this time into a clock

or a tire

If I am lucky I will turn into a friend again

and my use will no longer be of concern

Maybe  you’ll pour me glass of ale

and let me drink it, smiling and singing odes

instead of dragging me across

the spills as I am now

This morning

This morning they found the old lady

half-dressed, unconscious on the floor

No one knows how long she was there

They took her to the hospital

So I think she is alive

Diet

Diet cream soda is not that good

but it is good enough

That is the restless thought of the day

Cherish it

The Bit

Its two thirty in the morning and

you dear, stumble to bed and put your

knees into my back.

–

I lie there next to you

for an hour

–

then get up and stand outside on the balcony

–

I can’t sleep

–

I piss

–

I drink water

–

I lie on the couch

–

I piss again

–

Its morning.  Its time to get

daughter ready for school

–

For the past 30 something weeks all I have been

doing is lying on the  couch and feeling

dizzy.

–

This is pregnancy

–

This is why I’d rather the stork

bit were true

Bills or Bicycles

A friend said everyone has to grow up.

He said it like a man who had been

molded by someone else’s hammer.

–

It heated me and made me malleable

like burning kittens or drowning puppies.

–

It is hard to grow up, friend.

–

So what

if we die too young.

–

Lets make paper airplanes

with scraps of paper sent

by the bill collectors.

–

Lets ride a bike around the lake

with a little ginger ale in our bellies

and a plumped up grin

to meet the noise of the old people

doing the boring and necessary things

to keep their lines and moles in order

–

Lets walk on the beach and kick the waves.

Lets pick up rocks and suck on them.

Lets climb the mountains and jump off

giggling fear into the abyss

I Promise

I am going to die

and I am not sure when

but while I am here

I am going to fuck

with you whenever we can

.

There are going to be bad days

-absurd happenings and stubbed toes

.

and I’ll accept it

-the universe and my ordinary

place in it

.

as long as you are here

to bring me licorice and root beer

and other dreamy stuff

like titty kisses and big warm hugs

.

and your extraordinary love

Even Puppies Smile

I guess you have to be beaten

to learn to smile through

the pain because it too will end

and you will remain

–

To withhold your hand from scratching

while the scab it is still healing I guess

you have to have a scab or two

ripped off before you’ve healed

to learn the sting is not worth the satisfaction

–

And to marvel at your ability to heal

I guess you have to know broken

parts and open wounds and near death

experiences before you realize

how wonderful it is to be healed by you

–

but to be happy, why even a puppy

knows how to be happy on a warm

sunny afternoon with a full belly

and a friend to bum around with

–

Don’t you?

How long

It is easy to say it in a poem or in front

of a crowd but when you are alone and you accept

your ignorance or beauty or frailty

–

it is very hard not to  lie.

–

How long can you play dumb or cheat

smart or fake love or pretend poise

staring in the mirror?

–

I suppose, you’re not the only one

to have a wasted an afternoon or more

reflecting what delusion told you to

–

I have too

The Careful Expansion

The careful expansion of our

brain is not an accident of success

but a slow and painful process

of dividing or otherwise stated, sharing

Would you like a  piece of my pie?

Life Compared to Machines

Some like to compare life

to machines

There is a difference; one that

is so big it is obscene to compare life

to human made objects

Have you ever seen two refrigerators fucking?

The Stage

The stage is black.  The curtain is closed.

.

Sit and wait as he might no clap of his

will cause you to step onto the stage

and sing  -“Luck be a lady tonight”

.

In his joy, he miss judged  you for a gentle son who’d

be open for coffee or talk and never leave  for good

How could you after all you’ve accomplished?

.

Does the thick fabric of the curtain hang onto some

of your DNA where you rubbed as you rushed by

to change your costume for the romantic scene?

.

Are there skin cells of yours on the make-up brush

that helped your eyes pop so the person in the back

could gage the twinge of your expression?

.

Is there a hair of yours on the jacket

that you wore when you went outside

to rehearse your lines and get fresh air?

.

Did you leave your voice in the creeks

and falls of the building, rhyming in

rhythm with carpet hairs and the very foundation?

.

Is there some magic left that a father may find

or did it leave when you killed yourself?

Who else

Who else will write you love songs

or paint your naked body

with an opened mouth?

Well, if you know who,  I suppose

my life of water is meaningless

but if you haven’t got anyone else

why not let me petrify you, my dear redwood

I Imagine

I imagine your penis in my mouth

Your body rolled into mine

Your hands warm and gentle

on my neck

Pull and cling. Swish and kiss

Imagine it.  That is what I do

Here lies the body

Here lies the body of a well-loved

human -under this pile of stones

a power decayed

Even though, in his generation

his people loved and praised him

now he is a sonnet; a sealed container of dust

We stand, his future, new generations

sprouted from the past and remember his

name and the territory of  his revolution

but none of us can smell his morning breath

or feel the warmth of his penis in their mouth

Some advice

Here is some advice.

Finger what you love

This day is all you have

Lose for it.

Waste your life for it.

This is bad advice. Don’t follow it.

It will get you into heaps of shit.

It will make your heart fall out.

You’ll lose any respect

you’ve gained.

 

 

It is easy for me to drop this

on your doorstep and light it

on fire  -I’ve never gained respect

and my heart, long ago dried out

Jerky?

Hot body in Cold Water

I went to lake superior

and put my hot body

in the cold water

I went body surfing and jumped off a cliff

I floated on my back for an hour

I hiked along her, clumsy with aching

muscles and sat in the shade of her forest

I watched the sunset with a fire whistling

and had a few bottles and fell asleep

to the crash and fear of her waves

The problem is I couldn’t stay

Five days later and

I had to leave for my life chances

to stay optimistic and excessive

It’s a long good bye and even after

days of being back in the city

I’m dazed out and prone to smiling in sadness

Henry and I are going to die

we are not going to be making

you dinner forever

we won’t be pouring your wine

for eternity

so now, while we are here

please share your cigars

and play that song

-the one that makes Henry

cry and me horny

(he is easier to seduce after a good weepin’ and smoke)

diagnosis

my sister is lesbian

she licks another woman’s

breasts

they hold and cuddle on

my couch after dinner

they are uncomfortable

coming out with their

relationship

my sister’s love

says, you’re the only we can kiss in front of

I don’t know what to say

a tear cracks my cheek

and burns the flesh off

I know what it is like to

shout your love out

or hold a hand and tell

your mother this is the one

this is the one I want to make with

here is the only place they can

be natural.  in my closet they

can bang and  sass and touch

and I don’t stop them

when my sister starts to

explain herself I shout,

get real.

do what you want

when you want

fuck the world

fuck the couple

on the greeting cards

and books and calendars

the her and him

movies made for prime time

in the irrational embraces

fuck the boxes and neat shelves

the filing cabinets and manicured lawns

I don’t know if my words get deep enough

to beat the fear or the rationing of how

she found love.

I don’t understand

I don’t know what love is

to others or how they go about finding

it.

or sharing or holding it in

I see two beautiful women

I watch my sister’s love

wash the dishes while my sister

drys and puts away

I watch my sister’s love pour her

a glass of wine with a big smile

and hand it to her with a sparkle in her eye

and see my sister kiss her

and tousle her hair

I don’t understand it at all

maybe it’s a passing experiment

or a new rush or

the real deal

my sister speaks in riddles

as the wine begins to inhibit her

poise

her back bends a little forward

and her worries begin to be spread

on the table with the deck of cards and two

empty bottles

I push out all the uncertainty and confusion

I push it out.  I forget that the world

is fighting out place and roles and freedom

I ignore the pants and belt I wear, the blazer

and the scarf, and long tangled hair down my

back, free and out of control.  the flips, the bra that

lifts my breast,

that in another place or time would leave me

hanging from a tree or stoned to Hades

or cast out of town or home

as dirty or cheap or the devil or against nature

I forget it and enjoy life, the blood and bone, muscle

and cartilage

the nervous system

the sight, the smell, the taste

This is it. This is what I want you to believe in

sister -There is nothing wrong with you

Well Meaning

Well meaning humans

friends and family members

tell me to write a novel

something I can get paid for

They ask if I write

if I write at all

if I do, why don’t I show it

to them

they say with ups at the ends of the words

I mumble about the poem

about the line

about when I sit down and write

a poem  I do what

I can and hope

their war will be lost

on my ability to write a

decent poem

Of course I have a lot of

horse shit that I don’t

finger until it becomes apart

of my identity but the

process of writing a poem

I’ve put everything in

I’ve excepted

that I will never get drinks or licks

in exchange for my poems

But if I don’t write these bloody

stumps, if I don’t fuck on the mother

tongue and smear her ideologies

in my gruesome fantasies

her neat and organized world

may beat out the orgasmic

and thirsty

Huh- What Are You Sayin’?

I don’t want to alarm you but

I can only hear potato chips

crunching.   May have two

dollars and nine cents?

Please?

I’m losing my ability to focus

just listening to you eat

some people are good

Some people are good at cutting

off –shifting goals and melodies

for the best outcome

On the phone you said goodbye

and hung up.  I held onto the phone

a couple of years, listening to the dial tone

Scheming away

Scheming away

to sit at the master’s table

in a town far from home

I am in the bend

of a dry tongue’s oasis

Come on whiskey

-make it Christmas

We Were

We were young and beautiful

We were so soft and cocky

We thought we could change

the world by being ourselves

Did we?

On My Road Trip

I didn’t mean to bring

you with – Henry

You rode with me in

my brain and when the road

opened to new sights and smells

and sounds

you were in the right hemisphere smiling

and each night it was

hard to focus and feel alone

The poet inside kept singing

those old romantic numbers

with the salt of the pacific

in the mouth I clung to

lake superior as the anchor

of sanity

And lamented

I don’t know who you are

without the warm touch

of my hand

The colors blend

The colors blend into my cells

I could create the universe

I could bend the matter

of imagination

I could close my eyes and go to sleep

he walks in

he walks in and says –

“Hi

I ‘ve got a sore butt from biking

I love you – keep writng

I am watching a dumb movie

bye”

And so I get up and drink a porter

and smoke a stick and ask while

he dies, does he think he’ll pray for life

after death

 

 

and his answer is

a strong and sturdy

“no”

Number Two

Dear husband

Two nights ago we made

love.

In two months we will

be married for three years

And for the first time

we have made love

like they tell it in the stories

We made the kind of sex

that heal wounds or end battles

And I did not realize that we had not before

until two nights ago, when we did.

Do you want to do it again?

The dishes

The dishes need washing

There is football on the tv

Is this my life’s purpose?

A Cowgirl

Anyone with high intelligence

would have stopped in her

pony tracks and tried to go back

and cover them up and pretend

the journey never began

She is the classic dumb drum

who laughs at everyday

sadness and confusion

because

her ass hurts

and it grinds her

to be overly

sardonic

Follow the blood to her heart

It Is Difficult

It is difficult.

I had so much invested

in you being the one

who messaged my

gray temples because

when you hug me

and don’t call me

stupid I feel safe

I never felt that with anyone else

even sitting by myself

I don’t feel so safe

so that’s the problem, Henry

I don’t know where you are