Meow

You are a sweet morning,

tumbling back and forth underneath covers.

sun falling on skin lightly.

corners of mouths upturned and welcoming.

Sweet roses come grow,

in water and through hands tracing lines, 

tracing shapes.

I want to know you.

——————

The Sun Is a Hot Ball of Gas That Gives us Life.

I would travel to galaxies and stars with you anytime. 

Your heart is slinking fair form calligraphy that falls from your lips,

you are beautiful honest truth and shrieks of laughter.

———

Sleepy me is not doing to well on the poetry front.

But I had a cool fun night when it came down to it. With a wonderful appearance by Punk Rock Girl.

Down to business tomorrow. 

Weight

Bricks on my shoulders?

I ask for rocks and I get boulders,

I’m not asking to get wiser and older,

I’m asking to get hotter than colder.

Don’t ride on lightning bolts and expect your skin to molt,

for new skin to grow back and form leather bound memory

books. 

You are there, 

effervescent and alive in sockets,

fluid filled. 

Sun and Stares

Trip on dried leaves of grass,

drained of all their waters fast,

I sunk your ships and crashed on shores

then worked my way through wooden doors,

I believe that if you stare into the sun,

you don’t go blind 

you see the heart of desire.

It burns away everything else.

Oreo brand sandwich cookies

When you are eating Oreo brand sandwich cookies, and you bite into a piece of ham and realize that in fact you are not eating Oreo brand sandwich cookies, but you are eating a ham sandwich with lettuce and mayo. The coffee pot dings. Or maybe it was the doorbell. You look up and your wife is standing there, coffee mug in hand, laughing. Oh, John. You’re so forgetful after the accident.

Dinner Time

The western fence lizard,

black scales against blue sky

flips over on stone

hot with Summer heat

exposing his belly, crystalline and blue,

Scales soft and reflective in the noon sun. 

The hawk watches from the tree.

order up.

In the Shape of a Lizard

You kept a lizard necklace on,

even when you slept.

I asked you, “Why do you always wear that?”

You said it reminded you of last Summer

when you lived in Pensacola

and worked at Harrison’s Feed Store.

There was a leak that dripped 

and made a spot on the floor in the shape 

of a lizard in the break room.

I found a

crumpled up letter in 

your top drawer while I looked

for my grey Oberlin sweatshirt.

Written on the letter:

"Sarah, keep this letter and this

necklace, even if you never

come home,

I will always love you.”

I asked you what you left behind

when you moved to Ohio.

You grabbed your green lizard necklace.

Sleeping in the Art Gallery

We were laying under a collage

of a mansion in the woods,

guarded by krishna

sitting in a hotrod shooting 

reflective flames -

Two mattresses pushed together like life rafts 

on a hardwood sea, my body flat and spread

like a starfish, yours straight and pensive 

like a pillar candle, waxy, melted 

and re-solidified over and over.

I reach for your hand and you pull away,

"This probably isn’t a good idea"

Isn’t necessarily what I had 

hoped to hear,

but it was what I needed.

If I was skin on bone,

you were bandaid needed,

but torn away quickly.

UFOs dancing in the rafters,

I fell asleep with my arm across 

you, because my thoughts 

had aligned two stars

at the wrong time.

Krishna laughing from the wall 

could not have guided me.

Flight Attendant

Being a tourist because of a funeral

can leave you seeing mountains

and sunrises

while your mind is full of piles of dirt

and sunsets.

Can a camera hang around your neck

under the palms in California

while thoughts of rosaries hanging from necks,

their beads like black condensation

and rain drops that always fall 

during funerals

move through your head?

Flight attendants bringing 

refreshments and neck pillows

as you fly over farms and cities,

like the boat of charon above the living -

The thought of a black hole forming

in the plane and sucking everyone 

out, ascending them into the heavens

as if their souls are to be freed 

from their bodies.

Rainfall taps on the metal wings.