Chasing Wanderlust

The most important part of poetry

is how it makes you travel through time,

place. I have my spacesuit on ready

to touch stars. meet me at the ocean.

you’re so ridiculous, did you see i did the dishes for  you

love me now

fill up my glass

oh, how i love you now

the way you come through the door

and kiss space with two grand steps.

telling me how my beauty is so deep

even you have to dig

that’s why you love me

because every day i give you the shovel.

living and knowing you has been the best part

of my life

how could i have done anything without you?

this is my poetry

how quotes mean nothing

until i whisper them in your ear.

remember when we went to Puerto Plata

and i wore those fuck me boots

and short shorts? remember the party

in the basement with strangers

everyone grabbed our asses

we laughed and touched each other

in the back seat of the cab?

we keep on chasing wanderlust

in the front seat of sanity

with our seat belts off.

speaking foreign languages spreading love

through sand castles,

it’s the 70’s

and my foot went right into the Tupperware

when the car crashed and our necks snapped.


you know the grammar rules

now try to apply them

to your life.




The Mountain

i have that pin you gave me when I saved

your life. it fell off the other day and I found

it under my bed. not really poetic. but

without it i feel naked. you came to me

when the day became the night at that

perfect sunset moment when the world

around me stops and I stare up

to forget the pounding of keys

and my heart.

i do not try to get on top of you,

you have a way of getting there first.

your wicked ways of wanting

your charming chase of chanting’

i got an A in literature and never

went to claim my award. no

university mattered as much

as the one you never went to.

i wanted to continue the idealistic

dream but money took over the

desire. as it always does, and i

still rock myself to waking up.

to sleeping. boxes of wine bottles

on kitchen floors. none of my

words reach you though

up in your empire of broken

dreams. you visit less and less

and forgot the melodramatic

way i enhance all the nails

on the wall. stop piercing me.

you struck me too far. no

distance is far enough. no

steps slow enough. you will

catch me one day when i

least expect it. as it should be.

no expectations or careless

imaginations. greeks crashing

the markets and democracy

the epic revolution. it’s in our

blood to see further. despise

the enemy, with empty pockets

and ghosts of the army past.

no one ever forgets history.

i’m going to the mountain,

because that is what we

call Mont-Royal, there’s

a word for all the insiders

that the outsiders claw at.

a few speak them.

a few know that guitar riff.

but most doubt their own

heritage. or wave it off.

check your veins.

you’re alive.

hell is near.