funeral going...

The eulogy was nice,

But it didn’t do your life

Any justice now.

It was open casket,

That’s what they asked for,

But it’s uncomfortable enough

For us

As it is.

The medication is wearing off

And I left the rest in the car.

I can’t wait to leave this town.

It’s only been a day,

But it feels like ten years

Have gone by.

I see familiar faces

In the same familiar places.

Nothing has changed.

Body after body

Rising to the podium saying

Kind but inaccurate things

About you.

The urge for a cigarette

Is more than I can stand.

I used to call you my friend,

But now I can’t even call you.

popsicles etc.

Pedro entered the kitchen to grab popsicles for everyone.  "Do you want one," he asked Matt?

"What kind do you have?"

"Cherry, blackberry, and lime."

"I'll take blackberry."

"That one will turn your tongue black."

"That's fine.  I can pretend I'm a Chow."

Meanwhile Charles and Brian began a conversation about Terminator: Salvation and the Christian Bale freakout.  Pedro could only catch bits of the dialog from the other room and upon entering again asked, "Are you talking about the new Terminator film or the second coming of Christ?"

"What's the difference?" Brian replied.

stream of unconsciousness

My blood boiled
Frozen concrete
Underneath.
Icy wind
Knifed my face
Til I could hardly breath.
Stared into eternity
And I was the first to blink.

our stupid little games

"If we close our eyes, they won't be able to see us."  You said this at dusk while the rain sprinkled us.  You said this as we crouched in the field, by the old drive-in theater, waiting for the right moment to bolt to your apartment.  You said this, and I believed you.

"If we close our eyes," I said, "how will we see?"

You just laughed in that way you do and said in the most logical tone.  "Our love will guide us."

This made no sense and sounded stupid, but when you grabbed my hand, all my doubts disappeared.  The muted purples of the stormy sky filled my eyes.  The sound of the rain and distant traffic faded.  We counted to three, stood, and ran in silence toward warm blankets, cookies, and tea.  Soaked to the bone, the tall grass slapping our faces.  

Even though our imaginations were ridiculous, the danger we were in non-existent, my time with you and your hand in mine were enough to make me accept lies.   

UNTiTLED no. 1

You pull up to the terminal.  Small words are exchanged, but no looks or embrace.  You stop the car and let her out, not accompanying her to the gate.  The door shuts and you can't bear to glimpse your own reflection in the rearview as you watch her back, walking away.  Still sexy after all these years...walking away.

And it wasn't so long ago that you would have done anything in the world to keep that back from leaving.  You watch intently as she fades into the crowd.

Waiting.
Hoping.

She doesn't turn around.

RECURRiNG DREAM

My nose cried crimson.
The viscosity not unlike a
Warm honey river flowing
Slowly, down my
Mouth, chin and neck.
The thought of my life,
In pints,
Leaving my body
Without permission,
Made me eat the floor.

small doses

"I'm only good in small doses," he said jokingly.

"Kind of like your writing," she replied teasingly.

He did not find this funny.