Tag: author

Poem: In your company

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How do I tell you, that you’re the love of my life
That sometimes when I daydream
I picture being your wife
I know I act like a diva
But I’ll take any ring you can afford
Life has been hard on us
I want so bad to console you
To adore you, never control you
I’m finding it so hard to say the right things

Please always be here, right at my wing
I need you so I cannot break
My head on your shoulder
Your hand on my spine
If I could, I would be with you, all of the time

You let me decorate the walls with fashion and moons
Bridal advertisements for their colors and luxe
With you I’m fucked out of luck
I’lll never have you how I want
You don’t think I understand you, you’re making the wrong bet
If you were a school of fish I’d be your fishnet
Save you from the perils of the sea
Surgically transform your gills into breathing mechanisms

I can’t believe I’m saying this but you know I would die for you
And that couldn’t be more true
But in your company I am dying myself
Succumbing to pain
It hurts
So
Much
To not be able to reach you like I want
To you it’s like I’m writing in an illegible font
I’m looking right at you but you’re glancing away
Between us there’s so goddamn much we have to say
I get on my knees and beg you to try things my way

With you I’m fucked out of luck
I’ll never have you how I want
In your company I’m dying already

It’s been a slow, debilitating, painful death
I’m close to reaching the heavenly sunset
I love you forever
Say goodbye to my pets

Poem: Reflections on tobacco

distantcaveLeave a comment

Reflections on tobacco

I’ve been occupying myself with novel things so I don’t have to think.

I’m gracious, I stopped smoking cigarettes

I didn’t smoke them because they made me feel good; I’d go out for the brief “thinking hour,” the time I had with myself. 

And if someone was smoking with me, I was still swimming somewhere near the branches of the distances pointing inward of my mind. Swimming in circles. Taking private jet planes. 

I think of picking the habit up again (foolish) just to rest my leg on the side of a closed storefront and come to terms with what is and what was. 

I can do that now, if I wanted to. But I don’t want to. Mold like clay. Sweet summer’s day. 

I hope I don’t meet anyone who smokes soon.

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Poem: Our warm bedroom

distantcaveLeave a comment

Last night I had a poem stuck in my head
And I did nothing about it as I lay in my bed
It was about the golden days in Chicago ,
When we lived in that small apartment
And we were so happy.

I was tossing and turning
Trying to get it out of my mind
And all of those words I came up with, I soon left behind
I chose not to write about those wonderful days
That I romanticize, just a little
You have to romanticize everything
Just a little
That’s how you go on living

Someday I’ll go mad because I won’t remember
How cold it was when we moved in on September
How much joy I got from the fire escape
As it looked upon the downtown, so far away
You could hardly catch a glimpse
But with my cigarette lit
I was in heaven.

I was in pure heaven.

Poem: Swimming pools

distantcaveLeave a comment

Butterflies
In your swimming pool
I’m writing in my notebook
About feathers and freedom
What we used to think being an American meant
About global dreams
Obscure visions
Broken televisions
Why don't you ever compliment me?

I smile when you smile
You,
On the diving board
Laying there like a dead squid
Makes me giggle
Just a little
I’m playful in your arms
No entanglements
We are one of a kind
We talk about it
Like we’re in middle school
Like we’re too cool to be cool

It’s cold, but we pretend it’s summer
Spend Tuesdays by the swimming pool
Catching the sun’s rays
Wondering when we’ll be saying goodbye

Steel trains

distantcaveLeave a comment

I am bored and companionless
I come home, shut the steel door
Lock it 4, 5, 14 times
Grace my palm across the slate kitchen counter
Indulge in the cleanliness of no longer having someone occupy my chateau
My alcazar
Mine

The train runs by
Fifty times an hour
And I suck in the fumes like a child enjoys putting their hands on a hot stove
Ice

There’s a moody sky above
So I prepare for my favorite part of existence,
Standing on my balcony smoking menthol cigarettes alone
Careful where I ash
Watching the city skyline in the distance
Men in grey and black suits
Serving their role
They inspire me with their daily perseverance
Don’t mock it till you try it

I used to be afraid of the dark
Now the dark to me is Pittsburgh grey
I empty my handbag’s contents and find
1 pigeon feather
I feel like I have it all together
Even the birds want to be me

I am bored and companionless
The city skyline says it’s time
The felted wool of my grandmother’s blanket comforts me these minutes, now
Preoccupied
With wondering
About the Industrial Revolution and how to identify a black widow
I’m on edge, can’t you tell
I’m searching for something

I’m on edge, can’t you tell
I’m always searching for something