been so long sometimes I forgot the color of your hair
miss the way you meandered through our home
much like those ghosts with tambourines around
their ankles and faraway thoughts in the air
been so long sometimes I forgot the way you cared
miss the vision of you with gold around your neck
much like those spirits with the sun at their backs
their warmth and faraway peace in their prayers
gave a gorilla a teacup and he crumbled it before
I could reach out, I tried my best not to cry
over that ancient porcelain
I tried again and it happened over and over until
the floor was covered with shards of my past
went to bed perplexed that my praise didn’t
motivate him enough to care to keep them
or at least to want to make me happy
rested my head upon my aged pillow
among the dust, among the plaster
dreamt of gorillas with their array of fractured teacups
and their damned gigantic buckets of laughter
woke up and there was doom, so much
it was like I was drinking it from a cup
perhaps it’s because I dreamt of those black
ribbons that like to get tangled in my hair
that damned pretentious silk
I feel them now but I have to forage for
those twisted inky feminine cords
don’t you see them
you have to see them I swear
but
you insist they aren’t even there
and
I know I must give up my lost search
not question this pain on earth
long to walk without a step
breathe but not take a breath
just be and not let go yet
top of the palm hunched like a spent witch
fallen over her broom, its thick green
hair barely tossed by the wind.
her brown limbs lacking oxygen,
left her tattered luggage stuck in the mud.
that abandonment makes me think of
all those stories of hate you wrote
thinking it would make me want to
turn the page, but I tossed your book into
the water. and it makes me wonder
how spoiled creatures can hold so much
ugly and suffering, yet leave it
displayed out for the offering.
makes me want to cut the witch down,
rid my sight of vile palms that
make me think of so much pain.
makes me wish I never followed you
down this beguiling path of eternal
sunshine and hidden rains.
makes me wish you knew me before this.
if an angel were with skin, this is the skin she’d be in
and it gladdens my heart that he was there
with his red plaid falling in love with you
when you were tired of running
you thought we’d be abandoned
but, look at us dear, we’re still standing
I admire your spirit, your laughter
your view on this entire situation gone mad
the way you send prayers to stop me feeling sad
so sad, which confirms my thinking
that if an angel were with skin
it’s your skin she’d be in
she was like a moodier jennifer lawrence,
so many freckles i couldn’t even tell her tone,
but i liked her face.
never saw her flip a smile but noticed
her gasping every once in a while,
and she never moved, even when that
fly landed right on her eye.
she was skilled at wearing her tattoo
as a watch. mastered walking in stilettos
near the water on the rocks.
she had cheekbones that would make your
ancestors drool green
and
she lit up the page with a gaze,
eyes cold and mean.
this must be what the seas of Greece look like,
so blue it looks white
the water so deceiving
this must be what normal feels like,
so chill it’s like sleep
the peace I hear it leaving
this must be what perfection tastes like,
so fake it seems real
the day it leaves me grieving
it’s freaking me out
this business of growing old
wanting my face to remain like stone
staying calm with one hand
resting over the other
while
waiting and tending to
this business of growing old
after it tempted me with its stalky teasers
showing me its many scarlet hats
I saw her camouflaged behind the leaves
dull brown hiding her ruddy brown
with her head looking down
I heard her call out a song to distract me
then watched her fly away
broke my heart she didn’t want to stay
I felt the friction like a cat’s tongue
hesitating to taste what’s on my finger
cooed sweet baby words in its ear
to get him to linger
drove under the dopey gray clouds
so tired from the day
and told big happy lies to myself
begging the sunshine to stay
