Robed

We lived among twigs
I hiked in ancient tevas
Was attractive to dirt
and woody scum
Showered weekly at the worst
Nature was simultaneously
Filling our souls
And trashing our bodies
Most times I felt like a happy twig
On rotting leaves
After a soaking rain

We keyed opened the condo
Saw the remote controlled
Fireplace like a hallmark card
Something was gleaming
On the gleaming kingsized bed

A robe.

Perfectly folded
Curling like a finger
Seemingly
Whispering breathily:
“Come here please”

Silent, I touched the fabric
It was like a billion pillows
Packed to a perfect puff
Imagine a black hole of fluffiness
Fluffiness so strong that no fluffy could escape
It was like that
I mouthed, “I love you”
And the robe allowed me
To be
Full-Length Robed
Flowing over me completely
Cascading over my twiggy body
Cataracts of comfort caressing my cares

I looked at myself in the mirror
And I did not see myself
And I could not feel myself
And I was not myself
And it was so nice to live there
And then it was nice to leave

Leaves

When we live
in New York

The potholes
The jobs
The places to be

We want to see
the leaves
The snap of their change

We leave to see leaves

And the traffic is like the wind
Holding our color
Before we carpet the earth

The One That I Have Kept

I buy a pair of bottles
for me and for you
to drown out that fucking jukebox
Desperado
fuck

Fine title for a night
that begins and will end again
with me
a silent wail

Like that current of incredible power
I know is there
forced through wires
stuffed behind the wall
be com ing
The Eagles.

I am a poor jukebox.
Stick a quarter in my side.
Listen to me giggle
See how expertly I can twist
a silent wail
into a friendly smile
on the lipstick that is left.

I buy a pair of bottles
And tonight will build a ship at home
inside
the one that I have kept

and before the sun
begins I imagine
how the boat would billow
if only it could sail.

​ Fireman 🚒

A got a little fire
Man in my heart
Who's been toiling
Years on a flame
I lit by accident.

It was sorta on purpose
But you never expect these things to get out of hand
Or become what they do.

This flame.
It's weird.
It confounds my man.
His pails of water do nothing.
It's like dumping air.

Once, after months,
of him jumping around
Like a crazy person,
trying to extinguish the fucking thing
the alarms wailing,
I confronted him
Exhausted
I pleaded, "just ignore it! do
Something else!"

My little fire
man
Tried to be a cop
Tried to be a bum
Tried to be a personal trainer
Tried his hand at planning parties
I felt bad the whole time.
Imagine planning a party
While you know a heart is burning?

So
He's back at it.
I let him do it.
All those pails of water,
Invested in a hose,
Experimented with smothering
and chemicals.

(No effect)

My heart is sore and sick
I want to be cold again.
I want my little fire
Man to retire.
He deserves it.
He'd look so relaxed
Floating on a pool
His grinning face
free
of soot.

Food

I watched a robin
hop and stop
ripping
a worm from the earth
and I wondered
for the first time in my life
it must be weird to swallow a live worm whole
if worms can survive being
buried underground
then surely it must writhe
for several moments
alive
in the stomach of a bird
and I imagined myself with a squirm in my own self
and feeling satisfied

Slide

I was on a paved
path winding quietly
on a Sunday afternoon.
as a silent decision
led me towards a ledge

The mud was soft
and I could
detect no sign
of footprints
recently

It seemed I was unique
and the end of sight at the peak
was like me
sliding up

Children love the rush to the bottom
adults are changed
by a rush to the top

And as I summited
Expecting photographic glory revealed to me was
a highway underneath
Cars and trucks

sitting people moving

like they have a place to be

Place Like This

Is something wrong
when the subway delayed
In the early morning leaves
me alone on this platform and
I only ask because
I can't help but compare myself to everything in the tunnel
And sometimes it's not the best.
Imagine having to see yourself
As a place like this

and it comes so easily for me

I'm like the train
delayed
I'm like the wait for the next thing
I'm like a filthy drip into a forgotten pool
rosy with the rust of cheap structures
I'm like that specific reverence
for the shifting beauty of decay
I'm like the rails,
strong, true
On which everything depends
A guiding slender hand
worn by cacophonous connections constantly
I'm like the third rail
Powering the movement of millions of souls
I'm like the millions of souls
And it comes to me easily
Is something wrong with me?
Unable to just stand and be
My breath
replaced
by thought

And the sun is rising
on this place too
its beams coiling
through the cracks
to lightly kiss the forehead
Of this tunnel beneath the earth