your picture is only allowed to sit on the
top shelf of the desk
So I can pretend I don’t see you
So others can pretend I don’t see you
while your Eyes peek over the edge
just visible from my bed
You survey the room, filled with Hurt
What have you done?
What have you done?
panic on the subway
empty orange seats and me
fluttering looking trying not to look at Them
(do They see
do They know what this feels like)
i don't have any drugs i ran out two days ago
two days ago
things started getting bad again
and i'm scared so scared
no meds to gloss me over with
the thrum in my chest
an endless return
but i want to go home.
the heat lighting in my elbows travels fizzyquick
to my fingers and palms.
they’re called brain zaps,
a withdrawal symptom
where electricity travels in strange places.
the pulse travels just slow enough so i can trace lines of
the disturbed muscles pulling.
but you should know,
i’m not too worried.
i think it’s just the me
in the rocky foothills
of some country i’ve not yet been to,
i’d like to meet you again,
and walk together for a moment.
housefly in my mind,
zipping around and bumping into corners.
the static grinds wetly hotly against skull
i look at chapstick and think of snowfalls
i look at zippers and think of concerts
i think of my girl and see stone fences
in past new england pastures
barriers and divides and things to climb
surroundings can seem,
but then i look at the sky,
at the quaking aspen and birch closing above,
and it’s funny
feelings actually are.
were i winged,
or perhaps just on a plane,
i’d be in your bed by tomorrow nightfall.
instead i cocoon myself in blankets,
and must imagine you in Spain.
my poems aren’t grand,
faraway love isn’t novel,
but i miss you, i need you,
and i wonder it all:
how’s the coffee?
how’s the cat?
do you write of me,
or just talk like that?
computers were so much slower when we were little. back then, the computations in the CPU took so much longer to calculate and process inputs. now, everything is Flash! right in front of us.
so what had we done during all that waiting? what did we think about in those odd and raw moments in between the digital revelations brought by each loaded page?
i retain the right to act in favor of my own happiness. i am allowed leave a relationship that doesn’t make me happy. i am allowed to find a new one that does.
we watched a man spill box of beer
on Madison Avenue
that wheat scent rising.
we saw dogs in sweaters
and children in coats,
then hopped in a cab.
drinking you in,
i couldn’t help staring.
that leather jacket
and backless shirt
and smooth even tan,
two freckles inline of your spine.
you watched me
with that searching gaze
i tried to stay guarded but
you asked to see me again.
and so we watched cherry blossoms fall
and birds courting boldly.
you lay with your head
right near my lap but
you didn’t really talk to me.
just went childish and watched the squirrels,
giggling occasionally as i seethed.
the sound and buzz of people around you, chatter rippling in the concert venue: all metal and stairs and popcorn and beer.
is the same as
when you’re in a white bright eyeglasses shop, facing a corner on your left hand side and you turn to the right and the flash of lenses in the sun hits your eyes makes you blink for a second and their flash-burn is on the backs of your eyelids and you blink again and everything is thinner
the feeling is that you are empty and small, being carved clean by something bigger than you.