my sons
are the only true love
i’ve ever felt
in my adult life
i don’t know what men are for
but violence
screaming
dying of tobacco field wars
raping the women and land for money
ernest hemingway shooting sharks in the ocean
with a gun
his bloody plume only attracting more
and walking out elaborately carved
revolving doors
Tag: Honesty
sunny
warm
irreverent
yellow lenses for accuracy
red clay
wet with wild turkey
fully aware
he always fidgets
when he lies
even his text messages
must avert their I’s
it has been this way
for so long now
but please know
i did not wish for it
the subterranean dynamic willed itself into being
when you laugh
cry
or curse
i feel it in my northbound tunnels
but hear it
like you’re three rooms away
the station walls
filled with a writer’s thoughts
the cars lined with unopened windows
tagged and
covered over
on this unified plane
where we share a laundry hamper
full of linens that have never been soiled
one day i want to walk out of a darkened theatre haze with you
after a black and white propaganda film
during a war
grasping hands for balance
lips swollen from kissing
retreating from the intrusive daylight
violent noises
and cell phone godzillas
storming downtown sidewalks
wearing too may layers of clothing
if not in this life
catch a train with me
to the next one