I Want (You)

I want
to trace my finger down the middle of your back,
then take your shoulders in my hands, just so,
the way I would in taking something perfect and warm from the oven.

I want to kiss you
in a way that can't be denied;
a way that turns the light outside our window
from late evening to early morning
just because of the touch of our lips.

I want to be gathered by you,
held by you,
made captive by you,
as the earth is to the sun.
I want it all to feel as urgent as air,
and as free as the scent of leaves unfurling.

I want my loving to have language; to say
joy--here it is.
pleasure--here it is.
My heart--
yours, only,

but all I say is, "Hi, sweetheart,"
hoping 
that you can hear the rest.
________

 

 

You Have One New Message

If you really loved me,
you'd know what I want.
I wouldn't have to
spell it out,
dumb it down,
get out the hand puppets.

If you really loved me,
you'd lay the world at my feet--
not show up a day late,
a dollar short,
dressed in sports shit.

What made your worm-ass think
you deserve
this butterfly?
__________

art by Maria Sibylla Merian

60 words for the obviously fantastic Mama Zen.

The Wind

The wind came up out of the north-northwest,
and knocked the living bejesus out of everything it met.

It made windows explode from their frames.
It ripped shingles off the houses and pitched them into people's cars.

Still and all,
the wind couldn't move my heart.

The one I love couldn't find the breath to speak my name,
so ask me what I exactly give a damn about.

The wind?
Please.

The wind is loud,
but it's empty.
__________

In The Spring

Wolves came.
They did not come to see the flower garden.
Winter's last squall blew at their heels.
They had black faces,
and eyes as yellow as an elk bone.

I was writing a poem--
this poem,
for you,
but wolves came
and I curled myself around the April moon.

I'm sorry if you've come
and not found me here.
I'm sorry there is nothing left but a little blood-
my blood--
on the page,

but if the moon rises,
we'll talk, just as if summer was our favorite season after all;
and should the wolves come for you,
we can still be together, though it won't be the same,
in the fall.
________

Beach Bonnie

Beach Bonnie
makes her bed
from an old fine sail;
catches incautious starfish
by the tail--
those special ones
with silver tongues,
who sing about Beach Bonnie--
fairest of all.

Workshop By Full Moon

your workshop is so quiet--
I smell the shavings
and the varnish.

there is your sander--
how can such a thing make things smooth?
this missing you is awful--
I feel as chafed and inconsolable as the moon.

here are your darlings you scrape and cut--
I envy them so much;
the perfectly planed cabinet door
closing at a touch.
_______

Euro Love Song // Extinct Gravity Baby// Sturm & Dang

any raindrop road upseT the applecaRt,
"your nose hairs look like they pick up radio stations"
yeah...
the river is full of  / mascara fish
why did granDmotHer put out the morning strudel?

the moon drips wicks waxing white when 
"give me your hand"  // "the sky crows land on my eyes"
he told me this--
"apples talk to me from the sidewalks"
are we in a spY movie?

he leaned his bicycle against the bed.
"figaro figaRo FIG/ a /ro" i said.
everyone died.
"have you ever wondered-- (where ants go in wiNteR?)
"your lips remind me of the train to Prague"

boy howdy // said the cobbleSTONE*
boy howdy
the baby crawled over the eDgE of the eaRtH
& w/ a daffodil in its hair,
(abruPt and rAndoM change of subject HERE)
i wept.

berlin in spriNg.
motorcars in the parking garage of custard sorrow.
i gave my elbows to you
"i love yOu   & etc %$#"
open the letter with your soul, whatever that means //
the taxi denied what you said
but i belieVed.
___________