i never liked you.

simple, but also smug.

you stand tall and defiant
believing in your beauty
even when i and others, surely
joke that you’re the weed of roses

no one wants you in a bouquet.

you don’t scream “love” to anyone.

or “thank you”, or “i’m sorry”.

maybe that’s why i never liked you.

you were always more sure
of yourself than I was,
you were never afraid to rise

you grew tall and strong,
keeping your secret beauty
closed inside your bud

and by the time you have opened
yourself to the world
you’ve already been enjoyed… Read the rest

when i wake up i just lay there and wait
for you, for you to roll toward me and
stretch out your arm so i can roll into you

and while i’m waiting, yes, sometimes
i watch you sleep, don’t be surprised,
there are songs about doing this
we played them to each other
once upon another time

and i think it’s just wondrous
the way your eyelashes shine
in the morning light, and your face
looks so peaceful and sweet

i think you’d be surprised
to know how much i really love you,
i think you’d be kinder, too

the prayer cards they give you at wakes 
pile up near the stack of mail that there’s
no point in opening – you’re 90, quit
paying the bills, quit every damn thing
you don’t want to be doing with the time
you have left. you’ve had enough
worry over money and people and time,
you’ve iced bruises and wiped tears
and shit, thanking god for every 
thankless minute before your celebration.
your heart’s been broken, but you’ve
known all the greatest kinds of love,
and there’s a luckiness there that so
few people have the chance to taste at all.… Read the rest

The Morning War. Heat. Cigarettes. 
You know it’s going to be a bad day
when the Times just gives up and says 
it’s hell, but we’ll keep on reporting
until we’re hanged in the streets like
traitors to our country 

Oh, how I would love to be able
to afford being a traitor to my country.
To ditch work, hold signs, protest,
knock on doors, drive people to polls.

But I am the people we’re trying to help
and it does no one any good to listen
to me whine that we’re a broken society
that might never be … Read the rest

pay attention, they tell me, pay attention to the things you hear
like the birds singing, or coffee shop chatter, or crying 
and if I pay attention, they tell me, I’ll contain multitudes

multitudes of words drown me like the rising tide and
I can’t keep my head above water so the words are swallowed
and then they lift me buoyantly back to life 

there they go, floating along the waves, the words 
are boats that steer themselves and I just have to 
pay attention as they pass as if writing poetry were that easy

pay attention, they tell me… Read the rest