(pt. 1)
Laying down my note in his bedroom’s threshold,
I use his soft snoring to gauge the chances of my exit
being successful;
if whether i will be in the elevator or on the sidewalk or further
before his breathing changes slightly–
semi-consciously his body will remember the absence
of another laying next to his… Continue reading Chiaroscuro
Sifting through these photos of you,
Five years now passed between us–
I feel stricken by how boyish you appear:
Red spots dapple your brow,
a testament (perhaps) to Southern climates
or certain cruelties of youth,
and hormones.
I even now remember how the passions swelled
in you, back then;
Embarrassingly–as always seems to be the case
in such hindsights–
Just as i cringe at the hairstyles, the expressions,
Awkwardness i fear inescapable. Continue reading Bad Skin
Waking up soapy-smelling
and sore next to you
I was victim of an accident, a
wreck waiting to happen
I was doing shots of you
But i didn’t quit
when i needed to
Then you were too much
in my blood–
Neither of us belonged behind
that wheel…
Continue reading Black Tar
third monday always follows third sunday–
certain as clockwork and
death, taxes.
i took this one off to recover and
thank my foresight at
six-thirty. i am still awake and
would typically be brewing everyone
else’s coffee right now
(my host informs that his
coffeemaker has started
automatically)
Continue reading Third Monday
How long have i walked in this darkness?
Meeting no man, hearing none but my own voice
Asked to wind my way back home
alone–
but no, not truly i’m told;
My love walks behind, silent as a ghost.
Is this the folly of a cruel god?
Do the dead laugh now in the silence?
They told me that you are behind me,
and i must carry us home.
You are so real to me that i can almost see your face
before me– Continue reading Orpheus Ascending
Some days you’re biking on a flat road,
and with the smallest effort you’re shooting forward.
Other days you’re stuck in 7th gear at the foot of a very tall hill.
Some days you can sit out by the park all day,
Petting and feeding every dog that passes,
and sometimes that’s enough.
Other times you’re at home alone,
and you can’t keep dogs in your apartment.
Some days you walk out the door in shorts–
the sun glows on your face and you can’t help but smile.
Two hours later you can return home shrouded in fog and cold. Continue reading Life/in San Francisco
Where others my age
Keep hard-won degrees,
On my wall is a framed photograph.
My honors are buried under the skin;
My flesh is canvas for a patchwork diploma. Continue reading On The Eve Of Becoming
I think of your face,
Pure and perfect
as a Siennese Virgin.
On that Sunday though
You acted as the other Mary,
Stunned and weeping
as you knelt at his body…
You who are full of compassion
and nurturance,
You for whom concern is instinct,
I have heard your cries
and questions,
Wondered with you
Why and how,
Continue reading Amy’s Prayer
to say that i am missing
you
would be to imply
an absence of some
fundamental part,
a piece of me i cannot
find, and
such is not
the case,
as you are
still
with(in) me.
Continue reading Love Letter
this is the one for
the other boy nursed from her breast,
the boy born in February,
the boy with hair redder than mine.
you who would build houses from refrigerator boxes
with me on the back porch,
holding the knife to cut-cut-cut the doors and windows.
you who once made me a cuckoo-clock from toilet rolls and a diaper carton.
you, the older, the obedient,
the scientist who was spanked for playing with matches. Continue reading Brian’s Poem