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

These days

A stone like youHeavy falling slow through the water At deep hole
The beer cans arranged casuallyThe moss molded to the shape Of my butt 
We talked our numbers
and how being wanted 
changes you
(I wouldn't know)

On our walks through this city parkYou always stop at the big fallen tree and ask if I want to put my face againstThe tender green sporesAnd that's the reason I love you so muchEven though I don't like you that muchThese days.

poem #19

the younger, dumber me
made some bad choices
smiling when strange mildly attractive men
hit on me in bodegas or on the train
sometimes i'd let them follow me to bars or music shows
and it never ended well
it wasn't until i found myself locked in a bathroom with one of these men
and the smell of urine
i will never forget
that moment i decided to stop talking to boys in bodegas
and men with bad pickup lines on trains