Parking Lot
I miss parking lot you
the you that dashed on concrete
raced in grocery carts
the you that laughed
until you cried
the you that always knew what to say
to ease the angst
I miss the feeling
of beautiful hurt
like pushing on a bruise
or twisting a tooth
with the tingle and ache
that made me fall for you
without stopping
I miss parking lot you
that I’ll never meet
for the first time
or the last
again
Tending to Sunsets
life may be worth the tears
if for the sunsets
which close tired eyes
meld the heart in soft colors
wrap heavy bones in the dark
it’s something of an exhalation
breathing over cityscapes
and rolling hills
it lets you sink when you are stiff
think when you are blurry
in the eyes and head
how many skies have you tended
turning day to night
how many stars have you counted
losing track always
how many sunsets were meant for you
Eyes
I’ve always had a thing for eyes
The bulbous ones that pop from their sockets
The ones that aren’t there but should be
The flat ones– sagging or deflated (minding the pus)
The tired ones after too much Netflix
The red ones burned from a heartbreak or two
The closed ones–either dead or will be
will be eventually
When it’s all over (and I’m in a manic mood)
How was I so blind to the world
to not know its beauty?
Oh, how beautiful the world is
when every feeling falls upon my flesh
and brings a tear to my eye
and many more when I think of the enormity of it all
I shall cry when it is all over
when I shall say goodbye
to this place, I only knew for a short time
I was so blind
for there is suffering, but the beauty keeps me here
To live and to breathe, only to lose it all
I love this life; I am not blind, and it is beautiful
Pajamas
Fear is a strange thing–
turning your hair on end
it pokes your shoulder on your walk home
but there’s nothing there when you turn
to face the dark
and there’s nothing there
as you sit on your bed late at night
but you feel hot breath down your neck
and you live alone so you turn on the light
The electricity bill gets higher these days
and you might have to take a night shift
to cover the cost
the cost of living alone
but will you be alone forever
found after a neighbor calls the cops
over a smell that curdles the mind
curdling your mind
you try not to think about it
so you think back to home
Scared in dinosaur pajamas
of that thing in you closet
You don’t wear them anymore
but you keep the closet shut
the lights on
your eyes open
and it’s dizzying
with disco lights
shallow breathing
The older you get
the more there is to be scared of
Futon Talk
sprawled out on the couch
you drop–hypnotized and m e l ti n g
into the futon that sque aks as you
plummet into rainbows
tasting of cherries and grape soda
licking at the air as your pupils e x p a n d
and the silence is LOUD
spinning into a frenzy
you tell me you’ve never been so happy
yet I don’t see you smile
you tell me, it’s true, you’ve never been so happy
so I believe you
laying there, I count the minutes
between the sober black and white
of the clock on the wall
tick tock you say tick tock
I tell you I’ve never been happy
you tell me I’m smiling
Goodnight
the moon watches over me
as it retires behind the bold sun
it prays for peace
in a day to be lived
well and with vitality
it stands in solidarity
an enduring reminder
of birthdays long gone
and when black ink takes hold
amidst the chill and constellations
it appears
bright as day
to say goodnight
and welcome home
