and i turned down the sheets
put my legs in
together
pulling them to my chest
fingered my knees caps
and thought i might get up and sweep the porch
maybe call you
tell you it was raining
tell you i havent seen the moon in days

i lay there in the darkness
still
quiet
focused on my breathing
until i got bored
and imagined meeting you on a street corner
you disshevled
me .. misled
reveling in curiosity
drawing circles with our feet
around the other
talking in circumstance
and 'and so um, i, totally, uh, think, i uh, want to get a drink...'

drifts of deep
sleep
heavy waves of snow falling
my brain lingering
on the corner
of warren and state
trying to remember what i wanted to ask you

I want to come when you call
I'll get to you if I have to crawl
They can't hold me with these iron walls
We've got mountains to climb
-

hi


i knew you'd come here

read this

know this one

was

or

is ... about you

once i said, 'i knew you'd come here'

and you knew too

that if you waited long enough one would apply, to you.

and it is.

this one.

applying to you.

thank you for listening

always

and knowing it's,

yours.



love, ferdinand

a mobile
over my head
clowns
on tricycles
smiling
red mouth
ah

she held my hand
i apologized when i could hear her knuckles crack
under my grasp
she teared up in pain
said she loved me, to squeeze harder

.

all ten hours
of laying there
listening to the pulse
of my be
through a monitor
whispering my name
echoing
in the sterile room
she sat beside me
reading to me
Don Quixote

my body
it's broken
those bulges
unbending
thorny orbs
of
... who needs to be a woman

the ovary twisting
resisting its fate
of bearing and burning
eggs
go marching two by two....
into shells
burrowed deep
hiding
refusing to come out
clinging to the other in slow god embraces shaking their bloody fists in silence


a holy daughter
born from the blessed

fixed my time.
til it breaks again.

allen points
his point
eyes closed
centered in
on
his brain
reading words he engraved
while laying flat on his back
while getting head from blake
or a boy with a temper and insecurity issues

he combed his hair this morning
the jew in the curl
the curl in his jew
speaking downward
to
hell
at neal
who kicks the door open
just to hear it slam shut

glasses thick rimmed

blind men
leading the
blind men
bleeding the
blind men
feeding the
blind men
needing the
blind men
to open up their weary mouths
and recite it
word
for
word

a few letters
written backwards
you didnt like it
felt insecure about my intention
avoided me for days
didnt write back
in any direction

on a thursday
passed me in a parking lot
told me you'd leave the dark room unlocked

found you in it wetting a sheet of paper with my image on it
i had on a blue vest
smoking a camel wide
and a brown hat, covering blonde hair, that i found in someone's station wagon

grace.
otherwise known as katherine.
(her christian name)
left.

and we were alone
you didnt mention that i dyed my hair.
i was no longer a redhead
but a choppy dull black
the color of my combat boots

the drying room was dry
as i told you about about the art i saw in the middle of the state
following phish
you were quiet
and watched my the lines of lips darken and fill in

the floor was dirty.
the table unstable.

you walked me to my car

gave me my picture and touched the black ink hair
with black in fingers
and said you wished it was blonde again.

~ to birthdays i've forgotten ... remembering horses in back of pick up trucks wobbling ... awaiting their fate ~

im an idiot.

to void
is not to prohibit

shake the sheet
to half
and lick it up

absorb and smile
glow shake flourescent breeze
fireworks hide behind trees

cry as needed
and love as given

cold morning
tired eyes
sleepy brain
and excited soul

hearing the commuters pass
thinking of the things i have to do
to make matter matter
to make things happen
do warrant my desire and uncertainty

awake.
good morning thursday.
want friday.
thinking of waffles. and commutes. coffee and poetry.

im sleepy but in a good way
im in a good way but sleepy
the times they aren't changing
but i sure am.

first quarter moon
day after caitlins birthday
day before i dont care
and a decision i've been indecisive about

o the art
of making another
feel tremendously alone

and they did it well
like a picasso
in the blue years
or van gogh
in every year
like a water lily drifting in oil
a bridge not crossed
swaying in water and color
about to crumble
silently

like a tipsy flower
i've bent over
backwards
face to sky
fluid rushing to my cheeks
greeting god with smile and moan

in brooklyn
there's a bridge
over a water way
lapping up the sideway steel
of an all night diner
coffee sludge
muck and sugar
stir stir stir
spoon to ceramic
click tick whish
drink it down
find a payphone
apologize to your father
in heaven
for never saying goodbye

green curtain
fire truck
whirling fan
bags packed

orchid fading
on a window sill
downtown

sore throat
tea smother

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"kathy," i said, "i'm lost" ... though i knew she was sleeping.
"i'm empty and aching and i dont know why...."

ps