Thursday, December 29, 2011

A, A Lethargic Love Letter

Tell me what's the point
of to you
to have my love
if you don't 
hold me close
in a daylight coffee-house view.
The way the sun comes
Where the waitress musta
Missed a spot.
The green reflecting
Everything I’ve ever wanted to
Say to you.
The streaks smudging the clearness;
A castle above my head.
Where are we?

What's the point
to see in you
what I've always wanted you to
see in me?
I hardly make you laugh,
But yours, with the right tone
And with eyes shut tight
Can disembody myself
From myself.
My laugh for you,
Don’t stir anything more than
L.A. quakes
do to rats.

You don’t remember but
I once said
If you were alone
and I were
To be yours,
You’d live your life
You would live
Without me.

Thursday, December 22, 2011

I Can't See Art

Where there is impotence to gray skies
failure never meets abstracted youth.
In dreary, ill-lit rooms
eyes easily see Art:
unzipped and
sighs only;
you are mine.

An ocean trembles of guilt, aching
that it won’t bear and bends faithfully
with hot sea-salt tears and
she prays to let love be.
You’re not here.
Stuck in my