An anthology of our love. Drawn crinkled
\nCurtains. Capacious
\nday. Another in and out cloud-filled sky.
\nI’m sick and tired of writing about my rapturous crap. Drowning
\nIn my own self-pity.(my real)curiosity is
\nOf your soft inner thighs(and the smell)
\nOf fresh cut grass. Now
\nAs the wind kicks in. Your sunflowers
\nswaying in a huddled group. Your
\nstories are beautiful. It touches my senses (fills my eyes)
\nThere are dead crows everywhere. Lobster restrictions.
\nIn the crispness of dusk, people flee the streets, as
\nthe mosquitoes rise from the marshes, weathervanes twist sharply,
\nhammering keyboards in the darkened day, wondering if your lips
\nAre achievable. The irrelevance of my brightly-lit-ego-marquees
\nIn the hushed fog of early morning bike rides, head bowed in prayer,
\nwondering if you are there, who died in a porch laden sleep,
\nthough I still see you walking with all the ghosts,
\nof all the aunts, in long summer dresses, a pinched smile
\na long traveled mile
\nTo the Fair in August, and the smell of manure
\nscrap yard ferris wheel with half the lights out,
\nSome blinking. Creaking rust and happy children
\nScreaming innocence of blacked-eyed suzie
\nbemoans its fate to a vase as
\nNew Construction covers the northern lights,
\nparsley crab pie, an internet recipe, a mouthful of fire, spices,
\ncooling on the windowsill, microwave madness, purity of steaming rice
\nSpread out before me. Impressed. You made me smile.
\nYou made me cry. Like a baby. One day we’ll make love to this
\nViolin
\nOne Day
\nI’m going to revise this poem<\/p>\n
GCH<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
An anthology of our love. Drawn crinkled Curtains. Capacious day. Another in and out cloud-filled sky. I’m sick and tired of writing about my rapturous crap. Drowning In my own self-pity.(my real)curiosity is Of your soft inner thighs(and the smell) … Continue reading