?

Log in

rien

10th.Dec.08 | 12.18 am

I.

I keep the clutter on the floor
because it makes the place seem full,
and I track in the mud from the sidewalk,
and I let the brackish ice melt off my wheels.

I often wake in the middle of the night
and fall over my desk chair, grasping
for the bathroom, for the sink, for a drink.

My eyes cannot adjust again.
I am left alone with my work.

II.

I should not let the cat play with
the strip of elastic he found under
the refrigerator.

That's how these things die.

III.

I'm not sure what I'd say to you if I saw you.

Maybe that I had to get going, to go
drop off a letter at the post office,
or there were dishes in the sink that needed doing,
or I had a very important meeting,
I'll see you later, of course?

I like pretending to be an adult as
a kind of therapy -- wake early, run
the errands, cook your own meals, don't take a nap,
watch television from six to eight, drink
a glass of Scotch before bed.
(Of course it's never that easy.)

breadcrumbs | Leave a comment {3} | Share

i never wrote a love poem

8th.Dec.08 | 09.30 am

i never wrote a love poem for you.

we went to a lake in the seething darkness
of summer, and the moon was on the water,
and i could see your shape there, silver and slender.
but the water was cold, even when we swam
to the middle, your head disrupting the
dark-dark-light on the still surface of the lake.

i wrapped you in my towel.

the whole drive home you were quiet.

i sang to the radio, to you,
because i could never write you a love poem,
because every word i ever said has never been my own.

and i thought you might know everything i would say anyway
because we were so cinematic,
because we were geniuses of love.

breadcrumbs | Leave a comment {1} | Share

i told you i loved you a week after i told you that it was too much.

11th.Aug.08 | 08.28 pm

there is a certain way that
we watch ourselves in the mirror,
when the light in your room is silver
from the streetlight that's been replaced.
i like to glance at our shoulders when
i roll onto my back, and
your body still shakes
when i mention that night.

breadcrumbs | Leave a comment {2} | Share

i spent so much time missing you

20th.Jun.08 | 08.12 pm

i spent so much time missing you
i lost the actual you in there, somewhere;
and as i was busy bridging the distance,
you were busy tunneling to your escape.

breadcrumbs | Leave a comment {3} | Share

I miss all the old songs

20th.Apr.08 | 04.40 pm

I miss all the old songs
we played with angular awkward fingers
on the second floor of his parents'
1950s Royal Oak single-family home.
I miss the morse-code messages
to the pretty girls we liked then,
practicing my parts unamplified on my hundred-dollar
bass guitar. And leaning into a microphone
in the basement of the dorm, sighing
the words of songs we almost could call our own.

It is just the small sound she makes
when I tell her about these times, and admit,
sheepishly, that we borrowed other bands' songs,
that I crooned someone else's lyrics to
another girl in those days, and they were simple,
and it was good. She tells me she would have
had a crush on me in high school. But look,
I'm not so different now as I was then:
tired, jaded, caught in the low light of evening,
tight pants and white tee, half-drunk,
and being sucked into the same sort-of love I've
been trying to sing away for all these years.

breadcrumbs | Leave a comment {6} | Share