
Category: mourning


he loved me completely
he had the sweetest, big dumb bear grin
honey dripping even
when he looked at me
he smiled the length of the eastern seaboard
crooked loving sunshine in smiles over 5 o’clock stubble
whilst buying me tiny lobsters made of chocolate
took 1,001 pictures of me drinking coffee, eating lemon Italian ice
marveling at hermit crabs wearing ornately bejeweled shells
navigating social media oceans and long distance romances
from Neptune City to New York Harbor
we nearly sank together
we never truly said goodbye
we never stopped wanting
we never stopped feeling
but he never trusted himself
he never trusted me
though he had many names for me
baby gurl
angel kitten
alicia honey
sweetie poof,
and sometimes simply,
mine
he lied
and then abandoned me to coddle
his comfortable failures.
He once told me the opposite of love isn’t hate, it’s indifference.
How’s that working out, jack?
I knew he would never have the courage
to call me the one thing he should have called me:
his wife.
Ha!! Me, too…
Poof* Take MY water

it’s never quiet
in the city at night
however i’ve found
if my boots are planted quietly
amidst 3am lamplight
standing in space once occupied
by a storied brick house where my
great grandfather aged 90
lived and died
i can hear elm street recalling sadly
that he left for the hereafter
decades before i arrived
ATM
They
will sell you
candy cigarettes,
insulin,
Camel Wides,
chemotherapy,
God,
nicotine patches,
life insurance,
and a bronze casket
all
in one lifetime.
in death
our ribs remain skyward
like hands
cast to heaven
in prayer
the moment he turned
and walked away
our world became peckinpah
i can no longer discern
whose blood
my hands are weeping over
in the 1990’s
your flannel shirt
was a cultural ticket
that took you
greasy haired
through a graffiti pocked
bathroom stall door
to a grunge wünderland
where herpes came standard
with every tribal tattoo
nirvana whining
about your libido
a mosquito
&
girlfriends untrue
your dreams will be
dry humped
in a Geo Metro,
Generation X,
your so-called life…
high school interrupted
…eating Pearl Jam until
Zima vomit came to the house party too
with green apple jollyranchers
attended by
your skankiest girlfriend
who smoked Marlboro Reds
with the acumen
of a triple divorcee
her eyelids
the trashiest
ice blue