Wednesday, March 31, 2010

March 28th, 2010

we are each alone
in our own lonely way

March 27th, 2010

Long Distance

I have been driving this highway for 900 days
and i know each mile by heart

Some claim an intimate knowledge of a lover's body
her hips and skin
her freckles as familiar as
his own

This highway is my lover
her flaws I have accepted,
Over 900 days I have become as regretfully patient
as a partner

I watch out for hazards,
unexpected weather;
I turn the lights on in the dark
and keep driving
my eyes ever watching for signs
that I'm almost home

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

march 26th, 2010

he passes a palm over
weary eyes
and closes them

when they open
they are looking at you
and they are still so tired.

you don't move
you don't dare move
you don't dare

but if you keep breathing
you might just see this through

Monday, March 29, 2010

march 25, 2010


you had just stepped into the shower when
your nose began to bleed
thr left nostril
streaming blood and i shrank away

i was soaped up and slippery
but the blood trailed through
your beard like a game of plinko

"it looks worse than it is," you said
and i took your word for it and finished up my shower

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

March 24th 2010

a yellow paperback
with green-trimmed pages
sits on a side table,
it's corners dogeared and waiting

while the girl watches television
and thinks about reading
the paperback
but never does

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

March 23rd, 2010

There is a poem inside every day
but there are days when
I don't know
where to find it.

Monday, March 22, 2010

March 22nd, 2010

Spring Back

Most people love spring.

I don't.

I don't love the puddles cracking open to
their murky bottoms and crusted edges

I don't love the snow that melts and runs and then ices back over again in ugly, uneven patches
threatening passersby with slippery surfaces
I don't love the false hope of sunshine when it's only almost-warm
the way shoes get damp, and then the cold leaches through and stains your socks with a wet that will never, ever dry

and then there's the dogshit

dissolving into the mud, into the sodden lawn
under a dark-edged sky

I don't love the green grass poking up through the fading snow
the burble of a newly woken river
the lyrical voices of birds come home to nest

people say spring is Hope, it's Life, it's yellow chicks portending possibilities

but i only see promises waiting to be broken
in those flowers which are aching to bloom

Sunday, March 21, 2010

March 21st 2010

You left your house in the midst of a prairie winter
to see if you could hack it in the heat of a far-off jungle
and returned to an early melt.

The basement walls had become a sieve, they were
running like a waterfall
and you had one instinct, only:
staunch the flow,
stop the water before it ate the concrete,
destroyed the foundation,
caved in the supports and tumbled your house into a heap:
you wanted to save your house
you wanted to stop this collapse

But here is another way of looking at it:

You could have stepped back
let the earth move
let the water come in

Wrapping the walls in plastic is only a bandaid solution
a temporary measure
you cannot stop time
with a sump pump
you cannot prevent the inevitable
which is the rising up of nature
the invasion of melted snow
the earth taking back what it rightfully wants

Step aside
and let nature take its course
stop imposing your vision
onto a structure
that is more than its crumbling basement cement
let the walls come down and see
what grows up
in their place

March 6th, 2010

sometimes silence is all you can hope for

descend into the quiet

hope for calm

patience will expand and fill the spaces

that love's cacaphony only crowds

March 5th, 2010

to become a ninja
eat sushi and clotted cream
also: watch your head

March 4th, 2010

Eating Tikka Masala in Vietnam

the air is wet
we move so slowly through these streets
but finally an Indian restaurant has us laughing
because this naan and mutter paneer
all of a sudden are familiar
and taste like home

you put your hand out
I lay mine next to it, our palms facing

"I can feel you, although we are not touching"

we are connected
through the warmth of
as it radiates from our skin

March 3rd, 2010

there are days when all your living
overtakes your life

March 2nd, 2010

...ocean view beach resort....
....montgomerie links...
...investment opportunity!...
....crowne international casino... or own...

these English words under white faces
on billboards strung along the
Pacific Coast highway between
Hoi An and Danang

it would seem the Yankees have
finally won the war
the Viet Cong beaten back by golf clubs,
the surrender to the all-you-can-eat
seafood buffet, while
Ho Chi Minh, defeated, sips
cocktails at the swim up bar
the sun blazing high in the west

March 1st, 2010

Motorbike Karma

You might as well look at the bright side
    --as searing as the Saigon sun--
you can only know how truly good you are
when you realize how truly terrible you felt being truly bad.

February 28th 2010

February 28th 2010

Cua Dai Road

they told us there was a tsunami warning
but we went to the beach, anyway

you rented us a motorbike
and drove us along the hot, dry road
to meet the Pacific

my head on your shoulder
my arms wrapped around your waist
like a love song