December 2011
35 posts
6 tags
sometimes, in the winter late at night i open up all my windows turn off the heat and sit in the dark of my living room and remember your operation, the one i wished to perform, i know your body better than most, where each freckle connects, the length your ribs expand while taking a deep breath, but that was so long ago, now you are this cup of gin, the sirens in the cold night, my visible...
5 tags
you are my desk my assigned seat where i write your name like bible verses i uncover it with my binder when no one is looking and keep going until my fingers are gray with pencil when the bell rings and i leave and the next class comes in someone will see it and read it and maybe find faith.
7 tags
i want to live inside a shoe-box build a fire, make a bed, invite you over, i know its so cold right now but my hands are made of florida, let me write a sonnet on your stomach, let me sing leonard cohen songs to your knee caps, stay with me here, we could be the cardboard couple, mr. and mrs. allwinterlong
4 tags
you are a still life all watercolor and dripping wet with fruit, an apple soft with a short stem, a pear waist-heavy and sweet, i am not your painter but can i add in my teeth, can i add in my hand, to sink into your apple seed, to touch the thigh of your vase.
5 tags
you are a matchbook all secret and dangerous shaking in my jacket pockets when i’m all out of cigarettes, its like December is your first second and last name and i don’t have any blankets, its like your fingers are cap guns in my lungs, but this year can i be the brick red phosphorous on your side? can i be your brand new scar?
6 tags
i want to tattoo your wrists on my wrists, i want my teeth to be electric so your name will shock my tongue, your bed in your old house is my church, i pray to your ceiling fan for kisses, i use your bed sheets like a bible, it is so cold outside, let me be your pea coat buttons, let me be your window pane.
7 tags
i am a yearbook who got no signatures but i’ll sign yours if you can find me behind the vending machines, i have no letterman jacket, i have no ticket stub, but hey have a kick ass summer we should hang out because your breath smells like rain water and your arms are like matchsticks, the ones i keep secret for cigarettes, let me kiss your chuck taylors honey let me be a hole in your...
6 tags
you are the firework in my mouth your hair smells like gunpowder and special occasions, i can’t keep you like a secret, i keep you like a curse, a bad idea, an elbow scar, your face is a fire that can’t burn out, your legs are car alarms, your neck is my memory, winter is gasping for your fingers, darling, so happy fucking new year.
5 tags
you are christmas morning in the most unbelievable way all bright-eyed and wrapping paper, torn to shreds like memories of past years when it snowed or when it didn’t snow, or when our eyes turned to coal at the fantastic frosted window panes, but this year will you be my candy cane all red-striped and pepper mint, please dear, i’ll be your favorite ornament, i’ll be your wish...
5 tags
it isn’t fair that when i’m on your street in front of the house where you grew up i feel memories in the pavement, all chalk outlined and faded, like when we spent an afternoon writing haikus and you told me about how the only time you saw a shooting star was when you were a kid and you stayed up all night on the porch with your mom with an ear infection, i can only wonder if you...
5 tags
you are the piano keys weathered by decades both black and white whose sound lingers in the corners of my grandparents house, all ivory and classic, but i never learned how to slide my fingers against you, how to open you up, how to make you talk beautiful, i can only sit there and trust that you still can.
5 tags
somewhere trapped on forgotten clothes is the smell of your sedan, like past rain and newspaper, all long gone and echo, like the day before i turned nineteen and you came and kidnapped me from my house for the night, and we drove to an empty parking lot and waited for midnight under some bright street light that made your face so blue and so tired, turn the radio off dear, let the windows fog,...
5 tags
dear, you are the coffee mug that warms my hands, the one i’ve kept like a secret so many years, the gloss is chipped, sometimes the edge cuts my lip, i think it is good for me, the way you appear like some scrooge ghost in the winter night, remember being young and bright lying under the christmas tree? the lights hanging above like shards of make believe, i truly felt you then, but not...
3 tags
sometimes its the cold wind that dries my eyes and lets me remember your face all orange trees and salt breeze, bright like bleached sidewalks in florida where my reptile heart once burned for you, prayed to you. but now in the so so north, i’m left like a skeleton all dust dry and buried with no stone, while i’m sure you are making footprints in some sand, so memoryless and splashing...
4 tags
did you ever feel like the stars were just streetlights? way up there on the corners of different streets in different neighborhoods with different kids? no, of course not but hell i feel that way sometimes when it all feels so unreachable and i’m drunk and need a hand or some part of your body to lift me out of this chair when i’m ashing in my beer because i think it makes me...
5 tags
“kudzu”
best with headphones
6 tags
missed connection
you were the cardigan type, all sad eyes and november-ish, who talked like sylvia plath mixed with dorothy mixed with gin or vodka or whatever it was you were drinking at that party, chain smoking those cowboys like it was only a weekend thing, do you remember me? i was the boy slouching at the bookshelf all night, dreaming that you could be my Mary Lou or even my Sally Hayes and we could go ice...
2 tags
haiku
for the next few days i will be in the mountains so no new poems
5 tags
you are a soundtrack for the kudzu growing up the trees, you know in that field near my parent’s house, where i went looking for my dog one summer evening, but was distracted by your cicada voice, the deep humming of the dirt, the soft blow of being young, tell me dear, if we stand there in that field for long enough, will the kudzu grow over us?
5 tags
art student
you are a black and white photograph, so sincere and well time traveled, when i sweep my finger across your face to brush away an imaginary hair, i feel the love of centuries weigh down my chest, i want to keep you like this, all still-life and polaroid, you are my hidden history, you are my shoe-box heart.
5 tags
purple knuckled blonde all teeth and smile you’re my doodle on college rule, you’re my locker combination, if only you knew how intimate we are, how i can get the smile just right, with the right amount of gums, how i can turn the lock open with my eyes closed, its so wonderful and lonely, the way i know your middle name, the way you won’t warm up to me but god i’d set...
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5 tags
so young and so scared on your bed in your room on a school night fingering the frayed ends of your sweater sleeve as we taught each other how to feel i confess that yours was the name i wrote one millions times on all my assignments and failed because of it, yours is the memory i can’t shake, so long ago, i still remember your scent of spring rain and carousels.
7 tags
remember those afternoons in the graveyard after school with pockets heavy with each others love notes and lighters some found cigarettes, sitting on the steps, i can still feel that buzz we got when we lit that first one, ghosts and burning leaves behind our teeth, some last words i should have said, let me kiss your chuck taylors, dear, let me shotgun past your lips
5 tags
i am a graveyard full of long gone ghosts rustling the dead leaf echo on the yellow cracked sidewalk with past years all scattered like a wrinkled photograph of us, so red cheeked and coffee lipped, you know the one that i’ve “misplaced” so many times just to keep that god-awful late night heartbreak from entering my fingertips when i touch your polaroid face alone, its like its...
1 tag
2 tags
mug-weathered and copper hands like some lost wheat penny with lips like a fish hook so ready to catch my wet and silver chest way down there in deepest darkest holy god damnist part of the water waiting for your tide to sweep me up to shore so we can dance and dive back in together, me ready to breathe and you becoming a wish.
2 tags
i am a payphone covered in graffiti outside of a gas station with cigarette butts jammed in my coin return slot, all stained and wire-heavy without a home to call or a line to drop for your soft ears to hear so long distance and too fucking expensive, jesus christ, i didn’t mean that, its just i’m so rain wet and ready for nickels
2 tags
you are a jean jacket with devil in your pockets and cigarette holes all drug-dry and pissed like no fucking umbrella when its drizzle to downpour and your shoes get so soggy-leafed and puddle-soaked, i have one wide enough to cover us both but goddamn its like its middle school again and i’m a corner and you’re the dance floor so skid-marked and teenage blue.
1 tag
there is room to stretch now after two decades of leaving. though the morning is cold, i cover myself in imitations while the beat of some sun grows fainter.
she is not you
her hair parts opposite that is where i tug now, not at the ends of your long dress but at the curls of her soft cheek. In nature, it is the same:
a wanting, a desire
But where i was once young, I am now old; my intentions...
1 tag
1 tag
The Woods
Stumbling drunk through the woods behind Evan’s house searching for a place to piss or to vomit. Ten feet in, twenty feet in, I crawled deeper into the hot darkness of the July night until I could no longer see the house or rather until the other kids could no longer see me.
I am a small boy and the other kids know this but I still felt shame for my body and its willingness to...
2 tags
She reaches her hand out towards me. I feel a shock as she touches my cheek. I lean in and kiss her like for the first time. I say her name, it has new meaning. She goes deeper, harder, her nose is cold against my cheek. She leans closer to me, her hands in my hair, can she feel the grays? Does this feel different to her? Is it like a dream? Am I touching a memory, a spirit, a ghost? We lay down...
1 tag
i had a dream once where everything turned blue it became a poem