for the sparrows and lilies

care for me, care for me
tonight where my brain should be, there is only empty space
and i need you.
and i
miss
You.

touch me, touch me, touch me
softly behind my ears
fingers on my collarbone
hands on my shoulders
weave my hair and hold me

oh, i'll take quiet steps through midnight courtyards
if you just promise me you're near.

ghosts teach caution, disappointment reservations
you & me are no stranger to these things

and in cryptic little poems, and barer letters with no addressee
insignificant confessions whisper
mostly, i like the way you move me

eucalyptus along barker pass,
palms by stearns' wharf,
mission lit skies in foggy rose gardens:
goodbyes come hard upon hellos

this much we know.
but we learn to stretch out our arms, anyway.

[the real reason i can't wait to go home.]

Meet Pancake & Waffle.

[for elle & t.]

i was in a valley called despair,
feeling more alone than i can say
you, you wouldn't have found me there
you were hardly looking anyway

now the setting sun sinks low
and we head out, solitary

oh, but if i had a thousand wildflowers,
i'd throw them at your feet

mountains of sand will disappear
while you keep on singing here
(and who knows if she'll be around?)

what can be done with dead leaves, you ask?
we'll have to burn them all
tie our cloaks in expectancy for the fire to come this fall

with blackened feet we'll run,
our mouths full of salt
we'll reach the highest heights in june,
pitch tents and watch
wait for flame to be put out.

i miss your hands the most.

swimming against the current

oh those nights
of unspoken promises and small disappointments and secret, unshed tears

i was burrowing for a while, back into that hole for foxes
but then your voice came from the earth itself

and i remember now, your name is Shepherd.

i'm just trying to be a human being

The Glass House, 15 April 2008



Everyone I see I think I've known before
From the opera house to the grocery store
My love for them I cannot ignore
Like a human voice in a quiet morgue

But I don't want to wear no dead man's suit
I don't want to wait until the moon turns blue
I don't want to dream if it won't come true--
If there's something in me, well, I guess it's in you

[Photo thanks to PennLive.com]

to open like a hinge, like a wing

...to listen to the enormous waterfalls of the sun

wake up, wake up, leave cotton dresses and chickens to the world of dreams
pull on stockings, slip blistered feet into stiletto boots, button pencil skirt

you are Serbia, delegate to UNIFEM, urban-savvy
there are no trees, no holy week, and you are inside, eternally
passing resolutions on violence of a seemingly imaginary nature,
inconceivable in the conference rooms of a 45-story hotel

but pay attention young one, to the little things
pho with new friends, snowflakes in april,
paintings at the MOMA which take your breath away

this is where honest gratitude must be larger than dreams
when night comes, you may meet them again

n.y.c. musings

underground tunnels grind and grate in subway chutes too narrow
can you imagine being stuck here?
deep breaths now, honey

in a world full of people far more important than you or me
it is a little hard to listen (am i going deaf?)
(but then who is important, anyway? a farmer grows our food,
because of first grade teachers, we can read)

to participate in your death, so that i may also participate in your life
even in your, the word is foreign in my mouth, resurrection

oh, but these things are frightening and far!

can one word move you?

It snowed a little bit here today.

in central park, I'll find you
we'll walk through empty subway stations
and emerge in northern forests of green

walk & walk & walk
pick an aspect or a pine, and carve our names in the wood
if you'll follow me, i'll follow you
dirty streets, shining city, sunset west

be not afraid.