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Posts Tagged ‘poem’

They put their last dollar
In the brand new gas tank
He said it in his vows:
How he’d always be frank

That they had no idea
What kind of life was in store
How he might give her nothing
But he might give her more

So she took to the diner
And he took to the drink
They loved much too often
And they laughed at the sink

It was full of used dishes
And their house it would stink
But he gave her his all
All the life he could think

And he read her that poem
She loved as a child
“How like you this body”
And her heart it went wild

For the love that’s forsaken
You can taste it in heart
And so he was loyal
Love’s best at the start

But she needed her freedom
A new poem to hear
Someone wreathing her eyes
Who besotted her ears

And she left him that liquor
And she left him to die
And he laughed at the dishes
And sometimes he cried

His love’s inventory
And she’s got the store
And he promised her less
That’s how he gave her more

And he promised her heaven
A room and a drain
And the hole drank his blood
Like the sea drank the rain

But he gave her her freedom
And a new happy heart
Cause just like in Eden
Love’s best at the start

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You have your bulky joy

You wear your youth like yarn

Piss mordant till you dye

It keeps your skin from harm

 

The smoke was once alive

In yellow plaster’s pores

Nostalgic from the wounds

Love has too many sores

 

And when the plague it came

We measured its hours too

The worst things about man

Turned out to be virtues

 

We once invented need

In the pre-pandemic dens

Like strangers on TV

We see ourselves back then

 

A life force is absorbed

In the city’s coming squall

This is how you love now

If you can love at all

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Love Now

She went to the window

And her perimenopause turned on the air conditioner

“Not tonight. It hurts and I don’t want to be touched.”

It’s OK. A young lover lies on you; an old lover lies with you.

She lay with calm nose breaths

While he came up with some new jokes

The one last night really killed.

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Yellow

The magazine was dripping with innuendo

It promised nipples and betrayal

The moon and Page 6 asked my hormones to dance

“You’ll never guess where Tom Kaulitz and Heidi Klum ….”

Began the headline I didn’t finish.

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The train coughed off its riders

Who would watch hockey or meet a friend

Or hoped to meet a girl

Some had been drunk on the train

To get ahead of the way they hoped they’d feel

A young teen explained to his friend

How to mug Long Islanders

“They’re so stupid, when you stare at them,

They just give you their money.”

Another woman chatted

As loud as she could

In the quiet car

And for a while it was enough,

For me to just watch the city

The firework box of surprises

 

Then I went to the street corner

And yelled “fuck” as loud as I could

 

I heard once the bulls of Pamplona

Like to knock spectators off the walls sometimes

And gore them.

And I remembered, no matter what city you’re in,

You really should participate.

 

 

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Piano

The little boy played
The piano
Sad and cold and blue
Like he was on a ferry pulling out
Leaving you behind on the pebbly North Fork
Dressed in clouds hiding their tears

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Lickspittle

“That congressman is just a lickspittle, I said
“Lickspittle,” whispered my friend. “Lickspittle.”
He didn’t know the word, but he repeated it
Back to me
He had only heard the new word
Not my sentence.
He would try it out
In new conversations. Get it wrong
The first two or three times.
But he would improve his conversation
By using it as often as he could
When he talked to others
And by that I mean,
Improve the conversations with himself

I was glad I could help that relationship grow

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Drive

The long line of cars fed the Lincoln Tunnel
Drivers were transfixed on their anger
A CD player played the sacred syllable “Om.”
While Shiva fed the digesting tunnel with destroyed memories
The tunnel and god-restored
River, the cold blue baby
Forgot who you were again, didn’t you?

There is no driver
There is only a constant forgetting of how to drive

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Understood, she said
But she didn’t understand.
Message received, he thought, but they were
Using terms differently.
My green isn’t your green
My over isn’t your over. My silence is only my silence
Not your aggression.
You argued the words
And missed the sentence.
“Stupid” sounds worse to her than it did to me.
“I love your body” sounded like I didn’t love her mind
The resonant frequency of the building was ineluctable
The bridge jumped
Dissonance was the music.

You cannot live with two sounds now
You must go out
And live among the many

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Self Help

I went to the self-help section
To feel less alone
I was reminded by the cool book with the blue binding
It’s called self help because, in other words, you have to be alone.
So many of us stood together alone
Here in the self-help section.

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