Steamboat Galaxy

The second-oldest mantra of all:
I am that which somebody said I ought to be,
or something, or one with everything?

On the surface of this darkened water
a form takes shape:
I will look for myself not in this reflection,
but in the waves that disturb it
before disappearing among the smooth pebbles of the shore.

Like this water I will transform myself,
give birth to shimmering figures
that others will recognize,
and with my words their silvery forms will rise
and reveal themselves,
as I lap gently against the rocks
again and again.

On the surface of this darkened water
a form takes shape:
I will look for myself not in this reflection,
but in the waves that disturb it
before disappearing among the smooth pebbles of the shore.

Morning Craving

She let me draw her naked once,
as she lay upon my bed,
so I grabbed a pen and paper
and I started with her leg.

I moved on up her thigh
to her supple coffee cup,
then the hand that held it there
atop the curve of her butt.

I traced along her arm,
and slid around her breast;
I trembled as I drew her lips,
and couldn’t draw the rest.

I said, “Babe I can’t go on,
not with this cold sweat,
that coffee smells delicious,
and I haven’t had any yet.”

Let me keep dreaming,
and in my dreams submerge myself in the haunting music of the abyss,
or let me catch the hesitant whistle of a nearby songbird,
and tumble across the soft strains of its morning serenade,
or let me recall the mournful reserve of the stars,
as, hours ago, they were cruelly veiled by uninvited clouds;
let me have anything but this glaring silence,
in which, unbidden, comes the unearthly desire
to write overly dramatic poetry.

Be patient,
for this will be the greatest song you’ll ever hear:
you won’t know the rhythm,
until you notice your awkward steps
tapping the meter of the world
as it dances beneath your feet,
and you won’t know the words,
until from your lips come
coarse traces of verse
that in their flight become poetry.

Burning Love

“I can’t believe you didn’t notice,” she said,

“that I’ve lost 3 pounds since last week.”
“You’ve really gained ten pounds?” he said,
“Yeah, you put on a little meat.”

“Check out my muscles,” he asked her,
“I’m feeling like a baller.”
“Yeah, your arms are getting bigger,” she said,
“but your dick is getting smaller.”

“Do you like my new dress?” she inquired,
“I just bought it yesterday.”
“Oh, I think it’s really, really cute,” he replied,
“in a whorish sort of way.”

“Check out these awesome kicks,” he said,
“yellow, blue, and green,”
“Yeah, they’re really awesome,” she said,
“(if by awesome you mean the ugliest things I’ve ever seen).”

“Do you like my nails, baby boy?” she asked,
“Don’t you love this color?”
“Yeah, it’s pretty cool,” he said,
“but it looks better on your mother.”

“Ugh it’s weird you’re such a dick,” she said,
“that’s precisely what you lack.”
“it’s weird you get around so much,” he said,
“you’re always on your back.”

“But I’ll love you all the same,” he said,
“until the very end.”
“Until you make a decent burn?” she smiled,
“we’ve got centuries till then.”