Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Mechanical Geese.

Once we've packed away the room fans
Aired out the heavy comforter your grandmother made for us
Cut down the perennials
And dug around for our socks
Even airplanes
become a gentle reminder
Of winter fast approaching.

The Ghost Hare's whiskers are twitching.

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Tainted water like happiness.

I thought about you on my wedding day

I stood out on a spit, looking over the lake
and kicked off my shoes.

In my pocket I always keep the corner of a letter you once sent to me.
There isn't any writing on it, but I know that your hands have touched it.

I threw it into the lake that day
and cried.

It should have been over then

But I'm finding it was easier to keep you at bay
when I kept that piece of you
next to me.

Monday, August 2, 2010

For T.

How can I explain it to you?

Some people attach themselves to memories
without ever really walking into your life.

Life changing presences
are rarely around for the long haul.

After all, the long haul is for safe people who don't make history

Not your daddy.
I would have risked the homewrecking
And broken vows
Even now when I look in your eyes.

It could have been far more complicated
if I wasn't such a safe person
and if he wasn't the kind of man
I hope you'll be someday.

I can't pretend I'm not hurt. I can't pretend I don't care. And yet I know when a time's come.

Songwriters with demons as big as Wyoming
and rain falling though late evening summer sun
will always make me think of your daddy

And how bad I am at goodbye.

Friday, July 23, 2010

These fingers will be your undoing.

Your cotton shirt has pearl-front snaps
and you jeans are buttoned.

(in need of a wash)

Your wallet has worn a square into the back pocket.

Always with a belt
Keys on one of the loops.

Glasses and a hat-maybe a watch.
No- leave that on.

Piled on the kitchen floor.
That's how I picture it

Don't try to stay your breathing.

These fingers will be your undoing.


I see fathers
with children I'm glad aren't mine.

Always torn between stillness
and the motion of idealism

Too selfish to choose
and too stubborn to forget.

Tuesday, July 6, 2010


I wish transmuting experiences didn't take so fucking long.

Monday, July 5, 2010

3 piece suit.

I can't imagine endless days.
I can't take on forever
without cynicism.

Too much happens in one minute
to commit to anything more.

Now is all I can
(and all I will ever)
be able to offer.

This is not fear.

I'm not proud enough for that anymore.