Tag Archives: love

if you can read this

you’ve heard the theory that there are endless
parallel universes with endless versions
of ourselves living different lives due to splits
at certain events?

so far i lived in a universe of 28 years
without nuclear war
without my dog falling off the bridge
that one time when he almost might’ve plus 4
car crashes where no one was hurt except
my PT cruiser, may he rust in peace never
to overheat again.

so the theory isn’t quite like that but probably
there’s a version of me living under a woman president
a bit persnickety about this or that, but overall well
and able to sleep at night. if you can read this
then you aren’t there, either

you are not alone
it’s something to repeat when fear takes hold
i fear the actions that fear may drive us to
the stampedes and the ‘save yourselves!’ unless we remember
you are not alone

shoes

keep falling in love with strangers and you’ll confirm
that it’s not the fall that kills you, but the sudden
stop

there are endless mysteriously sad eyes
half-surrendered smiles and quiet meals
to run barefoot through fields to. i know you
dream of what was lost
but hear me out, i’m from a keep-your-shoes-on
kind of family and that bit of cautious
discomfort keeps the glass out of your heels

shattering all the windows

that year, i lived in an apartment that was too much like
life
Big, but empty
nothing worked. fuses blew and needed to be unscrewed
and replaced. the radiators leaked
so it was cold all winter and the oven
gave up in October. i didn’t know it
at the time, but my landlord was caught laundering
drug money and also, i
was depressed

that’s why i was so skinny then
when we met
so skinny and depressed
oblivious to it all.
he came over to bake cookies once
right before the oven crapped out. now
i’ve an underweared man
in the kitchen
take out pizza with extra ranch because who cares
and other married
delights

buds

there was once a love that cut so deep
it wove into my soul
and when the spring came weeping
it flowed and flowed and flowed

the stems sprung up, almost at once
have you seen the bloom in May?
the paths were blazed and well worn when
they lead you straight to me

crunchy

one day we’ll try to throw kids
into the mix, that hope, that wonder
when i saw a boy, six or seven, struggling
to put on his jacket, talking softly to his dad and i thought
Wow, what if we had a son

What if he was soft spoken, clever like his dad
had his eyes and his disposition and patience
really all he’d need from me is
my hair, if he was a she, cos like i told you the night
we met, you have crunchy hair
it’s nice, but not for a girl, she’d be poofier than My Big Fat Greek Wedding
that i knew as i patted your head at the bar
that night, i thought What a man
i’ve found

if not for you

if not for you i’d never lift the dark cloak
that hangs heavy on my shoulders
there’d be no ladder leaning
from the holes that i dig and i’d sit
at the bottom, rotting like food
forgotten in the fridge

if not for you, there’d be no hand
to lead me back inside
if not you, no one knows how to flick back on
the light

 

symphony

you create a symphony of me
amidst rambling and shifting, through unemployment
and overwork
drunk or sober
it’s all one long line
of text but you
punctuate me, parenthese
and pronounce it all correctly
you indent, accent and never cut
off
you create a symphony of me
saved from an endless night