July 4th

floating on our backs
following the flight
of the dragonfly

with soft eyes
back and forth

too much homemade ice cream
in our bellies

we dance until we almost
puke, and twirl on the floor
on our butts

we want to be free of something
the heavy
pressing
darkness

so we light things on fire
and laugh at ourselves

hey you

I remember you with Jim Beam
in hand,
ready to pop my cherry
just like I wanted.

Blue eyes, dark brown hair
sculpted features
you talked about nothing
while we drank from the bottle.

Upstairs, we "did it"
on my futon; don't remember
what I said, maybe "I love you."
It's possible.

I do remember you said
"I don't love you" as you
literally ran down the stairs,
out to your station wagon.

At 18, I thought it was love;
I never heard from you again,
and here you are:
(the internet's a scary place
sometimes)

Chiropractor practice with your
wife, losing your hair,
same eyes.
Can't help but wonder
if you even remember.

I'm not that screwed up

caught up in crap
and particles and
vomit

I unfurl unleash unbutton
unzip undo

miscellaneous vices
(love sex too much,
don't want to be ignored)
keep me tied, fettered
to the floor

there are factory parts,
(my toes and my elbows
get in the way)
and it's hard to get
out of so much packaging

but it's too bad the sky
won't open up
and swallow you

meditation on men

You caught me meditating
but I couldn't do it
hard enough to get you out
of my sponge of a heart.

You didn't realize it meant
thorns and vines and prickly
pear feelings.

I never had much control
over my own thoughts
and listening to you
was like listening
to the last man

that caught my attention
in a crowd of bones and
skin and fat growing around my
all-encompassing waist.

Though I'll be meditating
again
on the last one
that got away or
never looked at me that
way,

my tattooed arms,
the flowers growing from
my shoulders mean
I still won't wilt.

Needmore Road

You peered into the darkness
listening to this river;
"It's really high tonight,
way over the banks."

But you kept staring at it
until the sun came up,
like it was gonna go away

talking about the tree
that used to be over there
growing above the water,
how you climbed it.

About walking through the river,
about being there with
Michael and Holly

and how this mountain laurel,
(you pointed), and that rhododendron
and that kudzu weren't there before.

You told me how you signed a petition
to keep them from paving the road
next to this river.

And how you rode bikes 6 miles
down this road with your neighbor.

How you wanted to stay there
got so drunk there you could
sleep on a hollow log.

bounce

crack my head on the
radio banging
to your songs

bleed on the floorboard
and if I could see your face
in the windshield

I'd smash it too
remembering my face
in your lap in the car

driving drunk laughing
at my 80's music
singing out the window
"you give love a bad name!"

and you told me,
"God brought us together,"
(and that you'd date other people)

to manipulate: to handle or control,
typically in a skillful manner,
yes, skillful

then she moved in to your
house in the suburbs
that looks like all the
other houses on your street

next to the highway,
and you make love to her
to the sound
of the cars

roundhouse

kick to the chest
blah blah written in
stone on his grave

they buried him in a
sleeping bag
stuck him in the dirt

when he was alive
he drank warm whiskey-
a shot before every
road-trip

honkytonk
bars on his breath
wild women gathered
around his handsome lips

he cracked open
hearts all over the place
till finally

he pissed off the wrong barmaid

morning

winds turn the leaves
to their underbellies

and my mother's yard
is green
this time of year

with hints of lavender
rosemary yesterday's rain

flip squirrel
leftover seeds

of her thoughts hanging upside
down from trees
feet gripping

Kiss my grits

or whatever is the closest
bowl of mush you can find.

Tongue the tiny grounds
of hominy...buttered and
warm,

and when you finish
wipe off your slobber
from the side of the bowl.

lesson for a day:

one more time, step
forward, walk

nothing takes as long as waiting

and the clock at the end of the
sidewalk is smashed

gears scattered
hands out of place
face cracked

so she can't tell time

clouds are in her hair
the sun hides above her

she drinks the stagnant fog