The Poetry Marathon

J

I love a man who walks away

I love a man who loves me

I love a man who laughs sunlight and candy

I love a man who shines.

He is tall and he is handsome

as a river is handsome, as a hearth is handsome

beautiful in its nature, and also

in the comfort it gives.

Dark and good-looking, but his beauty

is on his skin and under, warmth of a fire

radiating love and loving-kindness

I love a man who shines.

He knows how to keep them laughing.

He knows how to make me smile

when all the world is crashing and

I forget there’s light to be had;

he cavorts, he clowns, he teases

he holds and strokes with sweetness and jokes

until we are both giggling helplessly in each others’ arms

I love a man who laughs sunlight and candy.

I see it in his eyes, his face his smile

in the gifts he gives me, not because he gives them

but in the way he gives them; he wants everything to count.

I feel it in the way that he holds me, soft and desperate

Hard and soulful, he touches my hands

He takes me, takes me down

Like an animal, like a man, like a penitent god

I love a man who loves me.

He is a sunset

bright and warm and lovely

shining hottest in the last colors of the day.

I want to sit and bask in the heat

and brilliance, and hear the crows cry as they circle

just a moment longer, another few seconds please

but there’s just no use; the sun always sets

And I love a man who walks away.

Black Highway at Night

Black highway at night and I

am I

I am the driver

Black highway at night and the signs flash past

one potato two potato three potato four

mile upon mile, star upon star.

I am the driver

Black highway at night and I am staying awake

heavy eyelids, dropping chin, counting the signs

tires roll across the night sky, star upon star.

One potato two potato three potato four

Black highway at night, god knows how far

from this place to that place, all the signs

are too dark to read.

Who is the car?

Black highway at night, I am driving the car

from this place to that place, where all the signs point

too dark to read, star upon star

One estrella two estrella three estrella four

Black highway at night, star upon star

mile upon mile, god knows how far

before I’m too weary to keep driving the car.

An Invocation

Air, the wind in your hair and breath in your lungs

recalls my scent to you, across the miles

carries my voice to your ears,

Remember

Fire, the sun on your face,

the heat of your skin and in your sex

recalls my touch to you

conveys my desire

Remember

Water, the rain on your cheek

the rush of the river, the suck of the sea

the thrum of blood in your veins and seed in your loins

recalls the pull of me to you

delivers the tears of my heart

Remember

Earth, where your feet are planted,

the stone and metal of the walls where you live

the gravel and soil, concrete and rock

the bones in your body

recalls the steps we took together,

conveys my steadfast will

Remember

Love, by the maelstrom and the gale

by lightning strike and lava flow

by the rising river, by tidal wave

by sundering ground and falling walls

by all the chaos of my shattered world

I cry, across Armageddon itself:

Come back to me

come back to me

come.

I wake alone in a made-up bed

in twilight, city-sounds stirring through the open window

my eyes roll to the spot where you should be

my hand strokes the unmarred sheet

the lack of two breaths echoes.

You left this room, and every day since

is a day unwanted.

How do I like the view, you ask?

The lake is dead water

the moon a glory-hole cut in the sky’s canopy

through which the gods fuck us,

and speaking of fucks, I have none left to spare.

Behind my breastbone is a toxic shudder

I can’t tell if it’s panic, rage,

or mere indifference made larger-than-life,

but I want to take this jacked-up Jeep and drive it up the ass

of everything that once made me human.

Rambleman

Shambleman

Shuffling up the street,

Scuffing up his shoes with

his gnarlbone feet.

For Alaric

Thank you baby

for being a smile big enough

to wash away my frowns.

You emit joy like a little sun,

a gift rarer than gold

more precious than rubies

as necessary as air.

Lonely Mountain

Granite, cragged and shrouded

like a white-scarfed grandmother,

the mountain looks over the shoulders of trees,

past the crumbling rushes,

into the still green water.

Autumn on the mountain is frigid,

cold seeps from the bones of the earth

into your bones and mine, while the wailing wind moans

“they left me here”

“they left me here”

“they all left here without me.”

Why don’t you stay awhile?

The water’s warm, the dog don’t’ bite

You have time to make time

and I can make it worth your while.

The water’s warm, the dog don’t bite

there’s worse ways to spend a day,

and I can make it worth your while.

Just don’t you walk on past.

There’s worse ways to spend a day,

why don’t you stay awhile?

Just don’t you walk on past.

You have time to make time.

Do I want you?

Do I want you?

Yes, of course I fucking want you.

I want you like I want a buttered lobster tail.

I want you like I want a 32-ounce Angus steak

and Chocolate Decadence.

I want you like I want a pack of Vanilla Sweet Dream cigarettes.

I want you like I want five shots of Cuervo Gold

three Rolling Rocks

six hits of dope

and 8 milligrams of dilaudid.

I want you with every needy, gnawing, sucking orifice of my damaged soul.

I want you to lay me open like a knife.

I want you wrapped around me like a rope.

I want you deep inside me like a bullet.

Do I want you? Do I Want You?

Yes.

But I have learned, repeatedly,

that the pain of wanting pales

against the hell of having that which I want.