In the Corner

In the corner

of his

Memory,

her voice keeps

trickling over

Time,

her smile is

delineated within

Infinity--

their embrace stoically

relinquished between 

Reveries--

his strumming hands

salvage suspended 

Continuity...

Memory languishes the

finality of

Was.

In Lakota

In Lakota, there is no word for
Goodbye.

There is only the understood expectation for
Return.

Always one leaves with a sense of
Again.

For physical departure marks future reunion, not
Absence.

Goodbye closes off--in Lakota there's always
Later...

Please Return to Tiffany

My silver toggle chain
necklace
visits my neck--somewhat
secretly--
as I scrub the
toilets.


Please Return to Tiffany
heart--
as though anyone would
return
it if found on
sidewalks
I had passed over
previously.


Somehow, my Tiffany necklace
charms
the tedious task of
cleaning,
even though the only
one 
who sees it is
me--
(and my Windexed mirrors).

if you take your coffee

if you take your
coffee
with an inch of
cream--
then you will get
me.

if you ask for
brownies
on the way out
i
will order two for
you.

if you sit with
me
for hours on the
beach
i will wait for
words


i will beathe your
distance
i will sip my
coffee
with an inch of
cream


bury my feet under
sand
sneak a snapshot from 
behind
and linger in your
borders

bottle of beer

this bottle of beer

is

the only thing

to touch

my lips

tonight--

the only thing

to extol my body,

to embalm the

inertia of my mind,

to raze the abscess

of my heart--

a revival of velleity--

this bottle of beer

in my fingertips

is

the last thing

to touch

my lips.

today I was a gargoyle

today I was a gargoyle

gray, guarding my home

today I was a gargoyle

mouth of wrinkled water

today I was a gargoyle

stoned, still staring in

today I was a gargoyle

imagined and displaced

today I was a gargoyle

flushed and un-wooed

today I was a gargoyle

ugly and unknown

today I was a gargoyle

awkward and alone