Poem 20141207

we woke up early
for a saturday
and drove not that far
from my house
i say my house even
though he lived there
at the time
in his own room over
the garage
an extra father in the house
always watching sports
or listening to ham radio
or playing his old giant wurlitzer organ
or arranging meet-ups with women he met at church
at the coffee cart after service
but today we were going out
to golf
i had never held a real club in my hands
never once set foot on a course that wasn’t
in some way
miniature
but today he wanted to take me
to the driving range
so we woke up early
for a saturday
and drove not that far
from my house
but when we arrived
because this was how he operated
how he planned most of his outings
they were booked up
or the wait would be too long
or maybe i didn’t have the right shoes
or maybe i didn’t have the right attitude
and he just shrugged
and we went back
and he got on his ham radio
and turned on a football game
and i read a book

Poem 20141204

the first time her brother cried
she hid
opening cabinets
in the hospital room
crawling inside
pulling the doors shut
opting for the safety
and the quiet of a womb
big enough to hold her
recognizing the longing
in her brother’s voice

Poem 20141203

rain
and you and me sitting
next to each other on the couch
not worrying about the drains
and not worrying about the gutters
and not worrying about the sirens
and not worrying about driving
and not worrying about anything
the warmth of the two of us
hotter where we press together
almost unbearably hot

Poem 20141202

the child in the raincoat
waits at the curb
for the yellow-slickered crossing guard
to raise the red sign

she splashes through the puddles
kicking he feet up
and stomping them down
and makes it safely to the other side

sometimes, even on dark days
there’s a happy ending

Poem 20141201

my eyes open
no waking up
just awake all at once
like the last three days
i look at my phone
and the green face says 4:45

next to me
your chest rises and falls
your eyes closed
just enough light from
stars
moon
streetlights
for me to see your outline

a halo illuminates your face
your nose
your lips
your throat

i shut my eyes
roll onto my back and my hand
finds yours under the covers

even asleep
you squeeze back