In the Current

my wife's back turned to me
as she settles to sleep
shouldn't have meaning
since I'm not 15 anymore
analyzing every movement
and pulling apart flowers
she loves me, she loves me not

but lately
our arguments have been tsunamis
marred by the debris of others' lives
so I've been obsessed with knowing
what everything she does portends

her back
could be a wall
and I'd have to decide
to climb it like a vine
or turn away myself

her back
could be a sign of trust
since you never turn your back
to the enemy
and time has taught her
that I am with her
against this bitter world

her back
could just be what's behind her
and she's trying her best to face forward

and that is what I see tonight
she's trying to negotiate
the roiling currents of her life
trying to swim to me
even though I'm rough
and she gets slivers when she holds me

and I'm trying not to bob
too violently in the waves
for her to get purchase

and we're both tiny things
unnoticed by the ocean
so we turn to each other and talk
painfully, haltingly at first
then with increasing grace and candor

when at last we are done
the significance is clear
she turns to her side
I kiss the delicate hollow
between her shoulder blades
as I have so many times before

and I'm glad she reached for me
thankful for the breadth and buoyancy
of my body, lifting her up
to rest from paddling
to dry herself
to simply be

I bow to the universe
that has allowed us
to meet in the vastness
and travel along together

Like Air

by the time you text
to tell me you are home safe
I miss you like air

Ghazal for my Wedding Ring

my ring was lost a couple days
long ones because we were at odds

searching for it became a quest
to quash a more pervasive angst

that I might be the enemy
of my own contentment and joy

and much more significantly
the source of her unhappiness

my wife, from within her own pain
absolved me as a saint wouldn't

allowing the faults at my core
to just be cracks in the timbers

of a ship she still chose to trust
a leaky deck she stood upon

as always, defying the world
the mutinous new commander

charting the course when I lose it
refusing to let the sea win

by the time I found the damned thing
she'd reminded me why I wear it:

with her the stars are undying
for she personally lights them

to carry the both of us safe
back to the home we've created

Cereal

slicing banana
to put in the cereal
recalling mornings
grandparents shared bananas
in quiet companionship

Grace

grace in her fingers
her thoughts percussing
from keyboard to screen

grace in her colors
riotous pink hair
and splotches of alabaster
adorning her limbs

grace in the moment
when the teapot drags with exhaustion
but she lifts it anyway
to pour me a cup

grace in her shoulders
which will soften beneath my lips
when the work of the day is finished

it is then I will whisper a love song
to remind her once again of my reverence
for the woman whose every movement
lays grace upon my hearth

Walking to 7 Eleven

water clinking melodically down the gutters
a truck rolls its tires on the curb, reverses and starts again
the tabby cat is absent from the neighbor's window

these things I notice
while hurtling through space
at 66,600 miles per hour

My Woman Made of Star Stuff

For Amie.

my woman made of star stuff
drops galaxies within me
where they burn and swirl in sync
with the rhythm of her step

my woman made of star stuff
catches the lamplight
in the crook of her elbow
inviting me to kiss her just there

my woman made of star stuff
wraps her lanky limbs
around my pudgy frame
and makes me beautiful

my woman made of star stuff
refuses, REFUSES to watch movies
in anything but their original format
going pink with passion explaining this

my woman made of star stuff
weeps with heartbreak
and honors me by letting me comfort her
when life flops to the floor in tatters

my woman made of star stuff
moves with sweet defiance
through a world of hostility
rather than hide in safety

my woman made of star stuff
drops galaxies within me
where they burn and swirl
and etch her name
into the fabric of my space
the breath of my time

On Being Depressed

living a full life anyway
means knowing that when I love
I'll sometimes feel like dying
but opening my heart nonetheless

living a full life anyway
means dragging myself through inertia
just to get showered and dressed
and then putting on lipstick, goddammit

living a full life anyway
means sometimes being the jackass
who took on very little
but found it too much and bails out

living a full life anyway
means sleeping in my car some nights
because climbing the stairs to the apartment is bullshit
after my daily energy has run dry

living a full life anyway
means needing others
in a deeply exposing way
and feeling unworthy of their help

living a full life anyway
means sitting in meditation
not for tranquility
but for survival

living a full life anyway
means taking it personally
every time a friend or stranger
dies of the same disease

living a full life anyway
means knowing this may kill me
but deciding to fight hard
with teeth bared in defiance

living a full life anyway
means always fearing
that I've built a house of cards
that will topple as it's done before

living a full life anyway
means decorating those cards while I have them
placing them with care
and screaming into the wind
"Come fuck with me. I'm ready."

A Devotional

a bucket of flowers on the grimy floor
blossoms straining apart
as though polarized against their fellows
each one already dead
the days of budding have passed
a vanishing ode to summer

she knows where she put the summer
she drags the bucket across floor
this year she's let go as the days have passed
and the hours have easily coalesced and come apart
an insect falls from a petal, dead
an infinity away from its garden fellows

she doesn't notice the insect, doesn't consider its fellows
just opens the door to admit an inch more summer
and observes the surreality of not being dead
most things that ever lived have already hit the floor
their atoms have drifted apart
and what they became has likewise passed

for her 29 years have passed
each day gathering behind her with its fellows
present and past cleaving the world apart
flowers and insects flit through this summer
as she sweeps the dirt from the floor
each moment, once lived, drops dead

now that she's used to the dead
she doesn't regret what's passed
or focus on anything but mopping the floor
just as later she'll focus on one of her fellows
a lover whose lips are made of summer
who tears preoccupations apart

finished, she pulls a flower apart
its flesh feeling anything but dead
these colorful slices of summer
carry the light and wind that passed
growing them and their fellows
the petals land on the newly-cleaned floor

her bare feet kiss the petals, the floor
footprints joining their fellows
leading away from what has passed

Adding Rings

the sun dipping low
highlights the trunks of tall trees
hinting at the need
for structure, consistency
continuous unfolding

Summer Rain

an abrupt downpour
sends freshness barreling in
the open front door

Tell Me You Love Me

"tell me you love me"
demands a man I don't love
I kiss him, say no

Road Trip

as you squeegee off the bugs
you can notice or ignore them

but they've still all died
on the windshield
while you counted the miles
and sang along to the radio

your very existence
relies upon taking in dead things
and shitting them out

but that only troubles you
for a moment

some of your loved ones are dead too
others live and you're killing the bugs
to go visit them

you drive away
burning another tank of dead dinosaurs
the dead bugs float in soapy water
you munch on dead blueberries
and live
for the time being

Expanding

her heart grows lanky
and sleeps in the car
blond-curled head lolling

her heart grows dexterous
and taps the screen of a cell phone
drawing flowers and butterflies

her heart falls asleep in her arms
less and less these days

her heart peels away from her
with a sticky tearing noise
and runs away, shouting "No!"

her heart, no longer her own
can't be clung to or bargained with
as it bounds through this world
expanding

Juneuary

keyholes between clouds
permit glimpses of summer
sun brightens puddles

Light

in its place the sun roils
immense and unfathomable
sending photons hurtling toward earth

that eight minutes from now
she will not notice
as she drives home
trembling
weeping
regretting

instead of seeing
this moment
in all its perfection

only later will she sit
and breathe
and feel the light upon her skin
and when she does
nothing will be fixed

and she will bow
to everything that can't be fixed

Heartbeat

every heartbeat has
a soaring spike, then a dive
electricity
racing dizzily along
fibers that will die one day

Apple

first bite of apple
teeth tearing into sweetness
light upon the tongue

Sunset

near to the solstice
a gash across the twilight
sunset spurting blood
she stops to write about it
and looks up to find it gone

Dancer

I'm sure he doesn't know
how graceful he is

the sharp angle of his elbow
suspended in air as he taps the buttons of his calculator
is ineffably simple and lovely

I watch him and I doubt
that he knows what it is to be connected
to trade electrons

so fluid and aloof, my beloved
perhaps I think he's dancing
because I only catch him in glimpses