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The Prisoner
I can still smell you on my pillowcase, in the comforter and sheets. Thought about doing laundry but decided to keep you with me just a little longer. |
Riding Giants
Each new love affair is like standing in front of a 50 foot wave-- it looked doable from shore. |
I Fell In Love With a Poet
I fell in love with a poet. Which, I admit, will be a problem because of my massive competitive poetic nature. But not just because she is beautiful, which she is, but because she can write, like a hammer to an anvil. In fact, her words are so good that I will end up stealing them one day. Not whole poems, but a word or two, a line she says when we wake up in the hungover morning or as she reaches over me for a cocktail napkin, pen in one hand, burning cigarette in the other without spilling her drink, the coolest person in the place. And when I am onstage, and she hears my new poems they will feel strangely familier to her, she will tell me that she loves my new stuff and I will smile, pull her close, kiss her and say that it is all because of her. |
Love Crazy
I have accepted the fact that I only fall in love with insane and unstable women. Smoke rising from my house, cut my brakelines, total my truck while smiling type of insanity. Some can hide it for days, even months like a sniper waiting for the perfect killshot. Others don’t even make it home before my tires are slashed, my face is busted open and we are on the side of the road with her screaming how it’s my fault because I didn’t read her mind to know she really did want dessert even though she said no...three times. I am a true sucker for beauty. Never believing that crazy can be wrapped in such a gorgeous package. That is why I have bought a police scanner. My heart races whenever there is a 5150 call or a possible jumper on a bridge, suspect off of her medication, the domestic disturbance. That’s when I go out looking for love because I know that when I find her there will be at least 72 hours with no sharp objects, no access to flammables-- only pure, heavily-guarded, well-sedated love. And isn’t the beginning the best part anyway? |
In Your Absence
When you are not around I pile the pillows up on your side of the bed, to give weight and shape to your absence. But pillows do not steal all the blankets or grab my hand to hold it in the middle of dreaming, push me to the edge, wrap around my body, or wake me to say something gorgeous. I would rather you take the blankets and leave me cold than leave me alone. |
Semantics
"Did you sleep with her?" she demanded. "No." Walking away, thinking, "Sleep -- is what I do with you." A Subtle Motivation
She owns a .357 Magnum, tells me-- often that she is a very good shot. I have yet to forget a birthday or special occasion. |
The Broadsides
I sent her two broadsides of my poems. She called, said, "Don't you think the meanings of these poems can be misinterpreted?" I asked, "by your husband?" Heard her quiet, "Yes." I said, "Then hang them over the headboard of your bed, just to let him know that somebody else loves you." Spaghetti and Meatballs in America
I ate lunch at an Italian restaurant today where the cooks were Black, the busboys Mexican, waitresses were blonde, afro'd or dreadlocked; White, Creole and unknown, New Orleans jazz played and the whole place was run by an Asian family. The tables were packed with police, professionals, firefighters, millennials, military soldiers, Cajuns, slackers, lovers, fishermen, families, and one poet. The food was fantastic. If 38% of this country does not believe that this makes America great then they deserve to go hungry. Mile High Club
The stewardess gave me her number as the plane was taking off. I smiled and thought if the plane goes down-- our first date would be quick but definately a sure thing. |
Masterpiece
She sees me grab my notebook and head toward the door. As she steps into the shower she calls out: "Write that masterpiece baby!" I pause, turn back, and with one finger I carefully write out Y-O-U in the steam on the bathroom mirror. Then I walk out-- done for the day. Narcissist Lament
Looking into the mirror he says, "I'm looking for someone just like you." Love Safari
It was primal the way we tracked one another, sometimes without the other noticing, sometimes making sure they did. Until the day when we finally chased each other down at full speed falling upon one another which such a ferocious beauty it appeared chorographed; a life and death struggle between lion and gazelle predator and prey and up until that moment I always thought I was the lion. Flowers at Midnight
I give you flowers at midnight so that in the morning when the sun hits them you will see me in a whole new light. |