Aug 5, 2010

10 years of not

i brush my teeth while reading poems
about a sick mother
and it reminds me of my own

september 27th
10 years since
she left me

i think about all of the things
she's missed
will miss
and how much i miss

know, how much i strive
to be who i thought
she was

fear, i'm all the things
she was not

crude, tattooed

there is an ache inside me
when i go to tahoe
and bathe in the water
where little pieces
or her were left behind

i still don't know if she took herself away
or if she was taken

still, she left me with an anchor of forgiveness
on a ship, that may not sail
as far as hers


if i died tomorrow

i'd miss the river
that perfect water
those slippery rocks
small, perfect rapids

if i died tomorrow

i'd miss fireworks
that slick neckline
those cold showers
warm, quiet nights

if i died tomorrow

i'd miss street fairs
that icy gelato
those plump weiners
loud, chirping symphonies

if i died tomorrow

i'd miss blackberries
that mini skirt
those flip flops
long, beautiful season


we made wet, gross, greasy sausage type love
tossed the bed like a hangover

start that fire
fan those flames

come on, gravedigger
play guilty for me

remember, i don't resemble those daydream goddesses
with their spun gold fleece hair

i spare too much time on chance, and forgiveness

aphrodite weeps

i begged him to

road trip to nebraska with the
only man i ever let under my skin

my brother was graduating high school
i hadn't been back in nearly 7 years

we passed the "north platte - 12" sign
as i begged him to jerk himself off

a strange question
he wanted to know why here, why now

because, there are oats here that need sowing
and my hands were busy with the wheel

the requested pulling
started slow

quicker and quicker i watched him
peripheral vision, sneaky glances


rolled down the glass
stuck his hand out
leaving white silk
floating in the wind

on a roadtrip to the place
where i was extracted

there's a "but"

i could have gone to the river today
but, instead, i wasted time

because life's too short
to look for you

as if i knew what i was searching for

i could have made love to you
but, you were holding me at arms length
hand on my forehead
laughing while i struggled
whispering "you should fuck my friend", instead

as if you knew what i am

i could have painted your portrait
but, my colors are too new
my palatte too clean

you, too ugly to be captured
so thoughtfully