Ergo Sum

Some of us, wide-eyed,
go wandering out into
the world, expecting—
           some thing.

She kissed me, and,
in that lay
               the (w)hole
of what was
to come.

Soaked in time, she rolls
in words that hold
some meaning, coating
herself entirely, enterally,
preparing to digest some
opportunity—

at her most honest,
she is her most
opportunistic.

_

Elegy for the Reader

Shadows of birds
fly up
the lit blue
behind you

and I laze,
languidly,
practicing breathing,
becoming real again.
 
I dis-
appeared
for awhile;
within those hours
I existed only
to you (live
only in your
memory).

Read to me
while I ready.
The being
  (okay)
is everything.

In days to come,
it is not myself 
I will miss.

_

Muddy Valentine

Why should suddenly
those days return:
milk in the water,
a stone in the sun,

midnight walks and cupfuls
of tears, or tea—
(then beer, then  
wine, then whiskey)?

It's nothing to do
with who you are (or
were—), just that
you were there
 
with me. The hardest
truth is not that love
ends, but that
love is arbitrary.

_

Pick One

realizing
you are all empty
of love
means there is
room to create
and probably
time, too, to
pick one
of these days
in which
you remember
someone plainly
loving you
and you forgetting
to laugh

_

Daedalus's Daughter

Playing god
in an 8x10 shed
where adolescent instinct
ruled all—

when she dreams now
of an old man
handing her a bird
too big to hold

it reminds her
of the first cock
she chose to cull,
 
the way the trash can
shook from his wingbeats
even though his neck
was well broken;

it wasn’t that
he’d lost a race
or proven impotent—

he was scalping
every chick in the loft
that wasn’t his own progeny.

Hearing their screams,
seeing their heads bleed,
she dictated
his death sentence;

for the good of the many,
her own life sacrificed.

_

Ptilonorhynchus Violaceus

Feathers line
his brown bower,
a thousand
sticks or more.

He likes
what she likes—

ephemera

           etcetera—

the paler his plumage
the brighter his gifts,

sorted in piles
and arranged:

berries, flowers,
nuts and bones—
even old beer cans,
plastic straws.

But’s it not all
for one bird;
if she likes it,
maybe so
will her sister.

He likes
what shes like,

calling one,
calling all.

_

The Sins of Others

Hail Mary,

full of grace,

Snow begins

m

   e

      l

        t

          i

            n

               g

and last

 fall

slowly re-

turns. ­ Up.

the Lord is

with thee;

Apparitions

of us     start

easing out,

creased and crumpled,

wrinkled

and wet—

blessed art thou

among women,

I’ve gone out

   to gather

the last icicle

hanging on

evening’s eave:

A single drop

drips like a drupe

from the tip;

instead of stone

within, one

immaculate

                   tear.

and blessed is

the fruit

of thy womb,

Jesus.

You’re still

    inside

with a glass

                    (of wine)

Holy Mary,

mother of God,

pray for us sinners

  the plastic

      beads

of the rosary

c·o·u·n·t·i·n·g

decades

  of mysteries:

now and at the hour

of our death.

           joyful, sorrowful,

glorious, luminous,

                   comforting.

Amen.

_

Attachment

So pretty to think
that he’s secure
even if I’m avoidant
(which means
I’ll fuck him over—)
         wait:
doing that already.

Hmmm. Then,
am I the evil one
for not leaving him
when he loves me?

(I’m probably not
supposed to be thinking
of this in terms of
who’s evil or not...)

Relationships
are not easy
for the emotionally
healthy—
for someone like me,
they’re pretty much
hell.

But apparently
I don’t even need
psychotherapy!
I can use him
as my secure base
and be normal
and happy.

Wow. Sounds so—
easy.
         How come
saying it doesn’t
make it work?

_

Litany

nights that I fell asleep
while you were still
talking to me

mornings you didn’t know  
I hadn’t slept at all
and there was no point
in trying to be quiet 

no one mentioned irony
when that came up

_