Reasons Because you loved me as I was.Because you looked into my unfinishednessand told me I was perfect.Because we could lie in your bed all daywatching the sun move across the window.Because content.Because there was no reason to move. Because I am a comfort junkieand you were an endless IV.Because you told me, over and […]
poem
18/30
Thoughts on a Palliative Visit The little blue beartraps the heatof your bare skinon its fursitting at your sidecradled in your armby accidenta small gestureof comfort the machines clickand gasp andyour eyes are stilllike hisyour chest is stillrising and fallingshifting little bearI forget you do notexpand on your ownI forget whatis keeping you alive I […]
16/30
Gentle I cannot picture the boy you werewithout your set of squared shoulders.As if you entered the world already braced against it. You lovethe linearity of logic, pride yourselfon the weight of your brow. Your edges are rigid, smooth – I wonder what kniveshave sharpened themselves upon you.I wonder what other shapes you might have […]
15/30
Post-Explosion In the technological storm that followsany tragedy – the hails of textsand calls please tell me you’re safe andstatuses my heart goes out to and newssegments on televisions at the gym,the mall, blood-soakedstreets played on repeat,all carnage and no causation on repeat,repeat, repeat –you should know – You can look away.You can turn off […]
13/30
Why Most of My Poems are Not Happy Because inner peace sounds like the stillness of airwhen you shout it into a canyon. Because a smiledoesn’t need further explanation. Because youare much more you in metaphor and I need to feelclose and you are empty space. Because every lineneeds to feel like a punchline. Because […]
12/30
Psych(e) Study A group of 70-year-old men, asked to pretendthey were forty years younger,found their shoulders to be wider,their hearing and vision improved,their gnarled fingers smoothedlong and agile – their bodiesremembering youth so preciselythat time halted, their ages froze,and their minds smiled into the 1950’s,re-becoming the young menwatching black and white television,marveling at the first […]
11/30
To My Parents My hands look like yours as they age.The knobs of knuckles and wrists,the veins threading into themselves,the familiar landscapes of skin.A childhood spent reaching for them,finding comfort in their long fingersthat cradled me the way trees did. My mind and legs are also yours,as is their dialogue –the neurotic generator behind our […]
10/30
Some Kind of “Why I Write” Poem Yes, I guessI have a lot of feelingsmy friends greet mewith boxes of tissuesin hand – I writemonuments to momentsthat froze me insidethink of my eyesas thawing if it helps– it helps. I guess I thinkof childhood as akind of hibernationthe instinct of burrowingthat lingers beyond womba silence […]
9/30
How to Love Your Art Clear out a room in your house.Wipe the windows (there must beseveral), paint the wallsa color with a poetic name,chartreuse or amaranth,something alive.Take your art into it, say,“here you are.I made this for you.” It may take some time,but watch how it transformsthe space, what strange plantsbegin to grow from […]
8/30
Little frightened bodhisattva quaking on its fragile threads of “poor me, poor, poor me”, tucking its chin against the wind – . small sunburst – darling magic gumdrop – you are many more colors than this. Un-bow your head. Spin stronger stuff, a way out without one back.