The Birthday

We took the weekend
to celebrate, to renew, to rejoice.
You chose the place, 
planned the trip, and rolled with the detours
showing me the reborn You
and teaching me, more than ever,
about extraordinary love.
I think we are both more certain now
that You have coughed up demons and 
expelled anxieties for us both—
it's good to have You back; it's
good to have You new.

Your birthday was yesterday; it was a week ago
water came down; and water came up
You drowned Your sorrows
and You were bathed by heaven

Things I think

Harpsichord and strings, all the Bachs
the trees dance to the vigorous strains
where was I

I missed so much, kids
you have to give them everything when they're young, but
trauma

I wasn't around violence
just a constant broken heart
and a void so big it crushed me.

What about the laundry
it doesn't matter at all
now

So warm outside, so
cold inside
So cold outside, so
warm inside

I want a violin
I want a camera
chimera

I want You
to want better, to want me
to want You, want Us, them

I thought I saw You just now
driving up, I take a sip
and see a collection of delivered notes

Chilly Down, chilly brass
Excuse me, hello
lost your head, the body will mind

Water falls, the waterfall
Niagara, here we come, come
hell or high water

Go in go deeper
and I see that You do
what I do

You so long and strong and
broken and wonderful and
hopeless, and me

Short-round, he used to call me
and it's true, I'm short and
my thoughts go around and stray

I want to say so much and the difficulty
is so great, but I see how You do
and I feel myself slowly waking

It's 3:33 and I wish
I wish I wish I wish
I wish

My Waking Dream

The dress was late. It should have been here by now, so I'm wearing just my underclothes, but there are people all around—
  "Is this confidence?" she asked. "No, it's just too hot in here."—

I'm clutching a bunch of  aubergine, golf-ball sized fruits on long stems. I can feel their weight as they bob and sway with my movements. I'm supposed to address the crowd, but the shame of the missing dress is too much, and I begin to cry. 

You ran down stairs to get me, and then we were out in the crisp and clean and cold night. I remember the moon in Your eyes.

I dropped the fruits back there, and I can see their stain on the path behind me. Flickering lights make me turn. Something is shining, white and blue with pale green at the edges, but it is too bright to see who or what. But we are neither of us afraid. 

The light gellifies, and begins to blob around (gegenuber).

I hear You cry out.

Reject It

Remember when
You rejected it—
all the anxiety
and worry
and hurt
and dissatisfaction
and rage
and haunting—

You rejected it
screamed 
and cried
and yelled it away, and it worked—
but, the cleansing isn't done. 

Cleansing, catharsis, clarify
purify, clean and jerk
it's work, I know—
I know, when I say so, but
"No", You say, I don't;
but I have been here and 
I have been there—

Reject it, 
eject it, 
pull the fucker by it's forsaken roots
and tell it 
You are 
Not
It's 
Slave.

Rise Victorious from the ashes, 
glorious to behold, be held
Be Healed. 

Friday Morning Drive

a tiny, wild bunny
watching the hu-men unearthing
its burrow.
a Laotian in Motion
streaming bright blue and black speeding
its pride.
a Slocombe lavender afro
teasing my eyes toward delving
its nimbus.