LAUGHING WHEN I SHOULDN’T SMILE

The internet told me to ask a man

not one single question

this month

it told me this is the month

to keep that for

yourself

I can’t not laugh

that’s the air in me coming out

to meet the sliver sky

when it shimmies down

to kiss the mud

Nu yu

Each spring I hopefully begin my to-do lists
which always includes some variation of

"have herb garden,
in kitchen?
in window box?"

The ghosts of mint and basil plants past
do not hover over me when I buy a new crop
at the farmer's market.

I want to try again and again
to remember to do something with care
to grow my thumb green
to be the version of myself
that pops up in fantasies
over and over again.

Last day on earth

Every cell in my body has a
last day on earth
then maybe floats somewhere else
past the smog
and ozone layer
and burns up
lovingly
out there somewhere

SWEET ONE

The sweetness creeps up

in the costume of a lecherous joke

rooted in lust

or maybe just –

what would happen

if we showed our fondness.

In this case, if I pinned my hair

for the better part of a winter,

learned liquor, kept weapons in my belt.

Sweet one in his velvet suit,

walking home from jail.

Old wolf at it again but

more kind

this time.

INSIDE OUT

I might spread my fingers

into the current, or

it might freeze around

my cramping fist

like, people change

and stay the same

why the birds in Lansingburgh

jump sideways into bushes

why the boy at the corner

first lowers, then lifts

his Styrofoam strip

THE THING

Here is the thing
so many times the shape is by accident
or maybe the same shape
has been this accident
for what feels like always
the men nod to the men and everyone
including some of the other men
wonder when the speaking will cease
the braids become ropes
the beads become rocks
carve a daisy into the bathroom mirror
the future will know
what you meant

PLEASE (AF #4)

Please don’t let that smug conviction

cloud your truth

don’t let the mirrors show you back

the hard eyes of what your thought

it meant to be

adult

don’t contain

some act of loyalty to self

nobility of notions

at least they act

no you have to love you have to

cave to being concave to being

a plane that touches the lines of

all the other planes that make

the face of 

wet eyes,

glory be

My, what lovely lungs you have

My, what lovely lungs you have,
pressed up here against my hand.

So what if I made them myself-
or was that you?
Let's call it a joint endeavor.

With every rock of my chair
a new wave of nostalgia
for the present moment
washes over.

Take another breath
and another
and another
and keep going.

MORE MARIAH (AF #3)

generic proclamations pasted atop

the most spiral staircase

crescendos

and than a hero comes along/

with the strength to carry on

anytime you need a friend/

I will be there

we don’t go dance

instead, cocooned

imagine new desperate

measures

for new desperate

times

how do you party when

you’re going extinct

how do you kiss how do you

siphon your adrenaline

and not devolve into

submission syrup

(when’s the first time you

got really drunk?)

the choir fills

the halls

SELF WORTH

The flowers are dying,

they never really lived

we missed the pink lights of the dance floor

but drank free pink drink instead

I don’t know or remember

things like changing vase water

to encourage full bloom

or rinsing the rice

starch-free

but I will always alter

the volume

just so –

I know what sound

sounds better

AF #2

As self and selfishness take form

blind contour quivering out from the grey

blackest mascara black –

give me a kind sweet snarky

gay disco God, a deity of

responsible release

give me a clicking heel across

the fresh but ancient tile

give me a beat to

catch, to clap to

against and for

the Sunday chimes

WHATEVER FOREVER MEANS

We are crazed

to make these contracts

to become coiled with

such hidden organs

so I want to be lonely

in this

honor the blood bound address

of a woman with sons

diamond skin because

no diner food

would make me happier –

back of my leg confined

reminder to hurry up

and go

4 BROTHERS

Somebody went to Morocco

Somebody broke a coke bottle

Somebody hated their mother, more

Somebody listened to Chaka Kahn

Somebody used the darkroom behind the door

where the smug wood angel hung

Somebody helped put the ornaments away

Somebody wrote limericks in broken pencil

Somebody missed their mother, more

Somebody abandoned somebody

Somebody made their little brother

hit himself then pushed him off the ledge

Somebody had the right jeans

Somebody went to a rock show

Somebody rolled a joint

Somebody went to boarding school

Somebody made too many jokes

took it too far, took himself too seriously

Somebody dodged the draft

Somebody held the puppy in his jacket

Somebody had secrets

Somebody cleaned the pool

Somebody was lazy

Somebody was a ballerina

Somebody explained praying mantises

Somebody stopped coming home

Four boys in autumn jackets

Four boys in the sand

Children go where I send thee

How shall I send thee

Stay at home

Don't make me,
peach boy,
don't make me go back on myself
all doubled over
in doubt.

I want to hold up the others and say
look what they do!
The proof is in the comparisons.

Don't make me eat my pudding
in hiding
Or glare at the keys rattling at the door.
Fair is fair is fair
and we've got decades to ride this wave,
but don't make me be the one to say
first.

Birthday girl

The birthday girl
shared her sweet sixteen,
I think.
The razor wire of the Napanoch prison
wasn't far off.
Inside, streamers and hula hoops.
We worked on our flirtatious antagonism,
if there were boys there,
which I think there were.
Of course,
our hot breath in the winter air,
our whispers held aloft.

Discoveries

He sends his tongue out searching
and crosses his eyes in concentration
what are these feet?
his drool drips
betrayed face after the needle prick
I thought you were looking out for me.

A home on the hill

The fishing line drips
from the winter tree
into the pond
the skaters slide down the hill
near the nook in the woods
which is someone's home.

His back to the world
and pink helmut balanced on his bike,
settled settled,
like us kids in the gravel pit
staking claim,
but his is for keeps.

Another excuse

We've been bracing for
And the sun is out
But the day is too
Dreary

I haven't made the phone calls
I haven't figured out how
To be
Better

Baby love

M
V

Grab at my heart
I've filed your nails today
So I should be safe

I'll ride the train out to the beach
And watch your face as
your toes touch sand for the first time.

Maybe you won't notice.

Shared history

A small huddled masses
Whispering words and phrases
Shaking fists
And wiping eyebrows
Back in the email threads of hope-filled 2009
I could not have thought we'd be gathered
By this little flame 
Trying to comfort ourselves
And each other somehow.