July 16, 2008 - Wednesday
the weight of the air
In the denotative
sense of the word,
the action
'to kill"
I have killed a man.
But what books don't say
your drugged out stupor
yelling
you were not ready to go
as I watched from the hall
accusations
to the vacant room
and the weight of the air
at the threshold
where I took a breath
but could not enter
and the drugs
as they left you
as I took them away
unable to speak
save
for your eyes
pleading.
I have seen
my father low,
sister falling,
mother going mad,
and in the denotative
sense of the word,
the action
'to kill"...
I weep for my brother.
July 11, 2008 - Friday
the way brothers do
Big Brother says,
"keep doing what you're doing
and you'll keep getting what you're getting."
Of course my verbal reply
was "six hours of amazing sex
with a lover I adore?" and a wicked smile.
He frowned
the way brothers do
knowing I knew better.
And all through frowns
and smiles
I was thinking,
'don't you think
I wish I weren't
some pup….too in awe of men.'
July 7, 2008 - Monday
poem for t.c.
nose soft
along his jaw
his ear
on his collar
faint scent
cigarettes
and pot
and on his tongue?
suckled I
faint again
cigarettes
and cherry beer
flesh
long and lean
I devoured
lovers few
and far between
but each
I never forget
too much
around me
to not recall
nights
of wonder
and how
I found me
in your arms
July 5, 2008 - Saturday
transient
I sold books today,
my desk last week
to buy gas (if that)
hopefully paint
so I can
rent my place
go to another
ghetto, one of youth
instead of hookers
cheaper, North
away from my city
my city
I mourned you
these last years anyway
books! words!
of others
my life blood
once
I consumed like
beer
chips
and salsa
another life
before
I came alive
before
I found my own words
July 4, 2008 - Friday
in the ghetto
In the ghetto
guns
are poppin' off
drunk
on meat and sauce
happy
we make
our own
fire in the sky
in the ghetto
in the ghetto
with my degree
and grad school
application
fireworks in the distance
Do you remember
that year atop the Texas Star
(oh we were
so young then)
and the fireworks
in the distance.
It wasn't all bad,
my husband;
it was just
the fireworks
were so far away
or perhaps
the manifestation
of my own desire.
If the latter
I am sorry
so sorry.
July 2, 2008 - Wednesday
strong
I was young
oh
a girl of twenty
maybe
and we
had been together
three years already
why that year?
I can't say
but I was crazy about you,
the receptacle of all my giving
my husband,
mate…
until the day I knew to leave.
Then suddenly
I was not so young
a woman
of almost thirty-four
who left
knowing
her desire
could be consuming
but willing
to face the world
alone,
strong.
