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 Title   [ Click any title below to view poem ]Category Date
 Untitled 2 summer 2009 Life 6/16/2010
 Untitled summer 2009 Life 6/16/2010
 Puerto Rican Papi Love 3/2/2010
 Hot Pink Love 2/19/2010
 Once Life 2/19/2010
 Saving Grace Love 2/19/2010
 Vertigo Misc 2/17/2010
 Oubliette for Colette Unrequited Love 2/17/2010
 No Direction Home Grieving and Loss 9/8/2009
 You're So Lucky Love 9/3/2009
 Cocoa Puffs Love 7/22/2009
 Bubble Blond Love 7/22/2009
 I'm Gonna Crawl Inspirational Poems 7/22/2009
 Moulin Rouge Love 7/22/2009
 This One's It Love 7/22/2009
 I'm Not There (part 2) Life 7/17/2009
 I'm Not There Life 7/17/2009
 Freudian slip Life 7/17/2009
 My Black Jesus Love 7/17/2009
 I'm a G Grieving and Loss 7/17/2009
 Years of Tears Unrequited Love 7/17/2009
 Pain is Love Grieving and Loss 7/15/2009
 the mystery Love 7/15/2009
 The Saddest Poem (an ode to Neruda) Grieving and Loss 7/15/2009
 same old story Unrequited Love 7/15/2009
 Mr. Beau Dangle Part 3 Love Gone Bad 7/15/2009
 grandiloquence Grieving and Loss 7/15/2009
 Ode to Sabrina Love 7/14/2009
 the rain Unrequited Love 7/14/2009
 train to grand rapids Life 7/14/2009
Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9


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Untitled 2 summer 2009

= If only the moments were my lifetime
and my lifetime the moments=



I’m beautifully f'd up
I lay belly down
       in the tub
I flip
look up
at the clothes hanging
       from the shower curtain rod
the bright ball lights dimmed

there is beauty in this

Beauty I’ve seen before
when the clothes have hung on the line
in my French room.

A cardinal visits.
A friend I never met sent me a photo
       an African Ibis.
Red
My father’s watching a Cardinal’s game.

My mother is here
       somehow
she has deposited her spirit
in my weary father
       somehow
the wrongs have been made right.

More tests
More stress
Men with no jobs
Microcalcifications on my mammogram

My lover says “Biopsy! Wahoo!”
Yeah, that’s his response.
As he rattles on whining,
       “You no love me”
       “You give me no time”

F you
       You pathetic s o b

I cope alone.
Live alone.
Chew on my bitterness
       as my sister sweeps through town.

I float alone.
Drink alone.

Rub by bloated belly
and hear the voices of all those
who have told me how soft I am.
Yeah, I’m soft.
       soft skin
       soft interior

I watched Bukowski - Born Into This
and think….

How f'd up am I?

and…
How beautiful my paintings are
How talented I am
How I might just rot away
if I don’t work less
       and write more.

I have waltzed with the grim reaper
I engaged him with psychic foreplay
and then…kicked his ass!

I’m here. I’m still here.

Gazing at the beauty of clean laundry.
Feeding the injured squirrel.

But I don’t know how long
I can get away with my trick.

So
I’ve got to do something
       before
I come undone.

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