Drapes

1.
her small hand
draped over my
thin wrist

2.
one leg falling 
out of bed
one leg draped 
over his

3.

Six words
to show
my pain
Eleven
to show
my tears

A poem I borrowed from my son

2 xx/5025Vv7
0
“.  

V ______________________________________________________z
ZX c.  c0020 cx,x,x­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­s­szz,_______

 

0.0   3.
 <Jg
33333g3.. bb04             0 uli,0kj0   mgd  

Love is touching

Mouth/sucks/nipple
Hand/rustles/hair
Nose/nuzzles/neck
Fingers/grasp/ear

Weaving&rejoining
Melt me back in&pull me out
Keep me near&keep me nearish

It's My Life

Barbara and the same song every week,
as if on tour and are there some weeks
where she nailed it and knew or
is it simply she has a familiar itch
and in scratching it does she
find familiarity?
The refrain, so familiar;
she can rightfully proclaim
it's my life.

STAMPS

Fish on arm

Big Buck on arm

Stint in leg

Sunset on hips

Phone in pine needles

Daisy in gun

Computer in prairie

Engine in sky

Garbage in freezer

Sunflower in hell

America in Bulgaria

Mexico in the Adirondacks

Bone around neck

Diamond on tooth

Eulogy on knuckles

Roman numerals on chest

Margarita in winter

Driftwood in city 

Glue on pasta

Camo on baby

Wool in August

Ash in the air

How long they cry
And what was the meaning of that last word you said enter enter in return
Where does an erection go forward?
And does it fall and did you fall and did we fall in love?
Where is the wimp the limp dick where is the old man? Where is the promised?
 And what shades of Rose will you bring me? Where will you become uncomfortable enough? Delete? I’m done with puppies.
I’m done with dirty shoes.
Golden ticket? Better we think it.

You were the first hope the last Hope the only boy in the wind

hello-goodbye

Hello-goodbye

they played that song whenever

they were in the kitchen, together.

dancing their own sacred rituals;

ground pepper in the eggs, turkey bacon

grease tipped from the pan to tupperware–egg shells

in the overflowing plastic compost bin.

they intersected each other, waltzed apart

and then back to touching–in stride.

they moved in their own orbits, singing

different bits, but overlapping once

or twice as both their feet

in socks moved instinctively, reflexively

toward each other across the rugs and wooden floor.