walk with me

Soon we’ll walk by rows of cedars, white

with frost next to the ice-skimmed pond.  I’ll reach

for your hand as cold junipers droop

with heavy snow.  A lone cardinal will sit

on a birch, against the pale blue sky.

It will be morning, when shadows are long but snow

is bright against your hazel eyes, and as

we inhale frozen air, our breath-filled clouds

will dissipate and then

form again. 

In June, we’ll become botanists,

sketching wild blue phlox, johnsongrass,

geraniums, and garlic mustard within

our notebook pages.  We’ll clutter bedroom walls

with water-colored illustrations and notes

scribbled about colors pigments can’t

quite capture.  We’ll record the smallest parts—

trichomes, cold taproots, filaments,

and yellow anthers full of pollen grains.
Even the broken petals will be drawn.

Bastion

I walk tar-chipped roads past rotting logs

and thick, chokecherry groves to the field

by Miller’s Pond. 

     Within the green and blue

echoing world of cornstalks and sky, I’m lost. 

Lost, but certain that corn will end—sure

of stirring switchgrass, wild bergamot,

milkweed and prairie dock next to stone-stairs

that lead to tarnished steel. 

       My childhood

train-bridge looms, and once again I’m small,

looking skyward towards graffiti and rust.

I want the view to be the same: brick homes

missing shingles, sun-scorched corn, tracks

edged in brush, paint-peeled factories

and windswept oaks.

                                  Last time, I climbed this bridge

to say goodbye.  But now, planting my feet

on crumbled steel, I need both black and white—

both tar and Queen Anne’s Lace, timeworn brick
and cloudless sky, the rust beside new blooms.

little by little

crinkled grass, cut hair—

the uncluttered morning

with your green eyes, with

sun on skin.  I had forgotten

how simple feeling can be—
how summerlike we are.

By The Beaver Dam

We crouched in the river

letting our mouths, noses,

flat palms feel the slight

bubble of water tension.

There was a carcass coated 

with flies to our right.  

It was perfectly cloudy

when we undressed.  

I kissed each freckle 

on your back until 

the oaks staggered

and the robins hushed.  

The air clotted, 

the thunder whooped, 

and I forgot you 

were there at all.

Couch Potatoes

His hands shuffle
next to me. I'm
looking for something

in the lines
that crinkle
from his eyes:

a tributary, a river
basin.  It has rained
for nineteen days—

the weatherman
tells us so, smiling.
Channel three

is flickering again.
Maybe love is selfish,
like too much rain.

Fragmented roots slide
from earth, ungrounded
by what nourishes.

a review of a popular dating site

dont have a girlfriend
and it doesnt bother me that much
in the moments before i sleep
im consumed
by a sort of circadian isolation
but otherwise im fine :)

create an okcupid profile
im a blank slate with an impatient flashing cursor
125 million blinks until im 30

i write things that i know how to defend
as stupid as that sounds
unconscious decisions are the most embarrassing

after confronting uncomfortable truths
i scroll through the selfies
and notice all the cute ones have kids

i learn something about myself
namely that i dont want kids right now :(
also im apparently into moms

of course a nice lady with a daughter
sends me a message
and i can barely face telling her the truth
even in this mostly faceless medium
and as i read her way-too-understanding reply
a hard knot forms in my stomach

a thicket of messages from various others
grows unkempt and barely pruned
as a mixed metaphor for apathy compounds over 18 months
and causes me to lose interest
(dont forget to account for inflation)

the profiles get more vapid and the messages more explicit
and its hard to ignore the thought that
maybe all i really want is sex
but part of me knows (the virgin part?)
that im too scared and untrusting for that
without a serious relationship

so maybe thats what it comes down to
i think im happy most of the time
just want to make sure im not missing anything

which wow
is still the shittiest reason to have a girlfriend

okcupid - 2/10

The Dairy Freeze!

Went to the Dairy Freeze

last night—dipped in color-

ful sprinkles.  Walked the

two blocks of back alleys,

past the rusting chair by

the curb, past the peonies.

Went to the Dairy Freeze

last night—crunched tarred

chipped roads as I walked

my coney dogs home.  Nothing

was clairvoyant, as usual.

Went to the Dairy Freeze

last night—tried to forget

the ice-cream, the numb
pinching force in my skull,
the lawless hunger of need,
needing someone, anyone,
to walk with me back home.

boarders

Left part by the blustering
bluebells on a cinder night
by the fire.  I was the beryl
fibers of light, the mountains
themselves.  Left part of me
in Kentucky—visited by
moonshine eyes that meant

too much, encircled in apron
ties, wanting and wanting
until part of me left for good.