song

You talk some trash and watch me vacuum in my knee socks

phone in my back pocket

my headphones on so loud can’t hear the soccer scores

you like my ponytail

ignore the players

and end up all over my spring blouse

unbuttoning my friendship buttons.

We walked on St.Paul all night

chasing our dreams

together

and kissing in cabs

I remember everything

the flashing reasons

I love you blow up in my face

erase the scars and build new castles.

You know how to fall in love with me

for decades, finding new things

to love

not being pulled in by my witty lines

my poems

but my real legs

on you.

You know exactly where I was when I lied

and you loved me anyway

chasing me down

showing me how you are the only one

who can handle my locked up days.

Play me that song

none of that new crap

but the one you sang to me

at your bar

in front of a live audience.

This is what keeps me close to you.

empty space

Woke up to your sounds
some kind of growl
similar to Ginsberg’s Howl
when magic gloves were something wacky
yet
poetry still did not mean a thing
as the Beat Generation continued their song
except me and the few
that saw those portals open
unfamiliar senses and sounds
of lost loves and words so profound
our senses were alive
with the realization
of how tulips lived and died
and the beauty never lied.

Fancy that you, baby, can comprehend
how my love rides
on tulips’ waves
their intensity, purity
their unspoken poetry.
Every word erased
is replaced within my soul
sprouting spring seeds
in the middle of Fall.
The letters in your name
as magical as mine
are to you,
so strong, full of inner fame.

These words are from my pages,
pondered on ink
then let loose on thumbs
tiny screen aches
morning solitude
pre-dawn dates
taken from my cup
to yours.

My doubt is grand
but when you hold out your hand
my faith sees the stairs
to your magical door.

I believe every blessed word
tantalizing and pure.

I cross out and rewrite now
too much thinking
on a full moon night
now day
now mine & yours.

I sleep, I wake
I wake, I sleep
and there you are
smiling at my return
watching me
watch you
watching you
watch me
this perpetual need
to be as One
and cease this infantile run.

Montreal is the call
as you wrap yourself
around me
in this empty space.