A street light beams down onto a large tree
Throwing a deeper shadow on the dark grass,
almost as thick as
Squinted eyes can make out two blond dogs playing
under the tree.
There's a fenced-in pool that's filled with dirt and weeds,
Vacant and abandoned, and growing, thriving.
Just beyond lies a stretch of motel,
and two rivers meeting at a fork.
Four men sitting around a small table in their metal chairs
Chat about fish as they pass the spitting cup.
Spit. One fish.
Spit. Was bigger.
Spit. Than I'd ever.
Spit. Seen before.
The legend, the dream.
The moon in crescent.
There's ice cream dripped on the porch of the motel house,
as the cicadas play the overture -
broad, long, slower, somehow, this time.
King size room for you?
Time isn't linear.
We've been here the whole time,
In this moment,
In two different rooms, where
we don't love each other
What is beauty for
What do I do with it
When there is no one to share it with
But enjoy it myself
And wallow in a vain existence
What is the purpose
Without a mirror
I cannot even see my beauty
A single stemmed blossom cannot kiss the other
buds on the rose bush
I may as well have been ugly
For what does it matter
Emotion and mental growth
Knowledge and creativity
Health and inspiration
Are the only things I need
Not this beauty
Not this pink blushing flower
In a bud vase
On a table
Closed behind windowless walls
And I look to you
I see your eyes
After the gin
I see through your eyes
And it breaks my heart
Like just you and I see
(And the rest of those… artists)
I see through
From the stars
I feel passionate tonight
Out here with all these stars
What the fuck is going on on Saturn tonight
What the fuck is going on on Jupiter
All those moons
Is that storm still raging
The moon is
Blue and half lit
Feeling like romance or tragedy
Drama for sure
A long kiss or a long last look
Tears or a broken heart taking someone to their
Me, either way, longing for touch
My heart pounding
Wishing you or you or you were here
I’m standing here drunk on wine
Cold in a pair of slippers
With no socks
Craning my neck back
In the driveway of my parents’
Who is out there looking back at me
Wondering what the fuck is going on here
Is that storm still raging
It really is
He comes out, in a bathrobe
Or was he here the whole time
Across the street
Staring up like me
Feeling alone, but actually not
Feeling some type of passion
From the stars
Like sinking in water
With tingling and growing lungs
Bursting for air
Hands gripping for the white caps
And running from me
Feet pushing off the mass of gravity
As it presses me anyway
Pushing me down
Dancing body flailing for life
I just want to float
I just want to swim
The table is set for you.
My body is prepared for you.
The legs are opened for you.
Like milk and honey for you.
Like wine and bread for you.
The closest you'll get to a
The closest you'll get to
In the mornings
I'd step out onto those sun-faded rocks and
Feel the sting of the heat beneath my feet.
Fruitless olive branches,
Squirrel-grounded avocados, and
One giant orange tree
Cast dark shadows on the chalky ground.
The sweet and light fragrance of
The orange blossoms
Pressed against my lungs from the
But it was deep,
Deep enough to lure me in most mornings
To reach up for ripeness,
Comb between branches, and
Toss the ground for any healthy thing
Left from the birds and bugs.
I'd squeeze and pluck and
The juice would run down my wrists,
Drip off my elbows, and
Hit Henry on the nose.
I'd hold the bottom of my shirt out
Like an apron
And fill it up -
Five, six, seven.
I'd fill it up to make cups.
It took almost four oranges to make a glass.
We didn't see much water in the dry months,
And that season seemed to last years.
But when the mist would come in the mornings,
And the haze would hang until noon,
They'd drip and drool out that honey
Thicker than you remembered it.
With wheat-colored grass under our feet
Cameras in our hands,
Hanging from our shoulders, and in our eyes,
We cling to each other (auto-advance),
Our hands full (auto-advance),
Finally alone (auto-advance).
We sneak into a boiler building,
Open the unlocked door,
And find warmth, timing and promises ready for us -
Rusty glasses, wheat-colored grasses, hair, sky, skin.
I'm yours in the secret, unlocked building.
I'm yours in the shade and shadowed.
I'm yours in the valley.
I'm yours on top of the cloud hills, above the mountains.
I'm yours in the blinding sun on the wheat-colored grass outside of your parents'
And on every single one of your beds.
My hands are full - full of your hands.
Your hands on me.
Your hands full of me.
Keep your hands open for me
Melt into each other until
We become one hand holding itself.
I’m still healing
My throat closes up
Like it used to
Before you were mine
Back when I used to pretend
That I was happy
Is this what that is
My eyes tear up
Turns these photographs
Like your eyes used to be
When you were mine
When we were happy
But this isn’t that
I check in on those straight lines
To see that keystone
To look for some hidden thing you found
I scroll until I see my face
At the bottom
Wondering if I wasn’t going to
Be there at all
And I knew before I called the shot
That I would still see how you taught me
How we saw, anyway
It haunts me every frame
In every skyscraper
So I put my camera away
But the half exposed negative is still there
In my mind
The sound bath
Held like a new born
The darkness directing focus to the only source of light-
The crystal bowl in my hands.
Eyes mesmerized as weight becomes visible,
The sides folding on itself as it sings,
And then nothing audible at all,
Just darkness, groping and turning,
Melting and warping,
Into pieces as long white ice cubes.
And heart attack -
The yarrow as the MRI
To the uterus
And to the trauma of holding on to you.
The blood clot-less
To birth the lining
To push out a baby that could be there
To make sure it cannot live-
Just this bowl,
This beautiful, unhealthy fixation.
Goddamn, we have something don't we?
How has this low hum, resonating in our chests,
stretched out for so long
from such a thin breath?
Rereading the love poems
I've written to other men
And finding you in between the commas,
Feeling you in the rhythms,
And catching them as responses
To poems written for you,
Noticing how long you've been
In this heart
Molding her and
Building a foundation to understand what man is
What king is.
I taste the raw of my lips
And there you are
All over the kissing,
In the secret-
Now the new day.
I feel you above the fog.
I look toward your side tables,
And even more, there are no tables at all,
Only a heavy mattress
With the weight of women who couldn't
Leaving you - fruitless.
In this pure gold.
I come to you
And hold out my hands.
I feel your steadiness
Alarmed and excited
I feel your gaze on me
Two lily pads parading in the morning
Wide and awe.
I know it is you.
I have felt you in my whole self
Growing year after year.
I've drank you in the water
And I've grown you in my blood.
Deposited into my soul
By your own hands.
I know it is you.
Wide and awe.
I know it is you,
I saw you, my lover,
Cut the marble from the side of the mountain.
I saw you turn your back to me,
It's contour mesmerized me as you dug out the stone
that was silver, white and veined.
I saw you rip into the earth
And push it down in a heavy quake.
I saw you in your reaping,
It awakened me from my sleep.
I saw you carry the mass down the mountain
And set it up beside me.
I saw your grip on the rasp
As blood blistered on your callused palms.
I saw your lungs fill with dust
And you breathed heavy, long and deep,
Sanding the sharp into smoothed,
Snow falling around me.
I saw you go back,
Harvesting out more and more
to make another and then another,
Six pillars of perfected core.
I saw you lift them up
And rest a roof of security softly over my head.
My lover, I saw you, sculpted body and sure footing
Fix toward me,
Raised arms and pressing shoulders powerfully
Take place as the final column.
And with no walls to enclose me,
I saw you love me.
I just made eye contact
With the girl in the window
Across the alley
Right before she turned off the lights
She must know I exist now
Three warm windows facing hers
But she doesn't see the rickety flooring
Of the apartment above her
And the naked woman getting dressed there
She doesn't see the window beside hers
And the knees of the girl at the desk
She can see me, but she doesn't see
How we are all alone in our rented apartments
It's some view that I have
Little flecks of glitter of people standing on top of each other
Sometimes dancing but usually sitting on sofas
Like me right now
It's not even that late
But my lights are the only ones
I thought this was the city that never sleeps
Maybe it's just the anxiety and the trains
My skin is sharper than the lights tonight
On the verge of a break through or melt down
Something that's going to flip some switch
All because someone I loved went through my phone
Three years ago