Bernie turns 11
the cold is a shock
as we step outside
I put one arm around him
kiss his cheek
remembering
when I could hold
his entire body
with that same arm
3 November 2013
Oak Street
Category: My poems
writing after an unplanned nap
half awake like moving in Jello-O
(“J-E-LL-O means the Jell-O family”
floats into my head from before I was born)
eyes stinging, mouth dry, brain leaden and fuzzy
staring at the screen like the words
will write themselves if I wish hard enough
I cradle my jaw in my left hand
momentarily lost in a reverie
thinking that any second now I’m going to
delete this poem and start over again
like I always do
2 November 2013
Oak Street
snapshot
cold morning rain gives way
to an uncommonly warm November day
my windows are open to let in the songs
of the birds who haven’t left yet
2 November 2013
Oak Street
you’re a pain in the ass
like the way you’re always
making me laugh so hard
or when I’m at work you
make me think of you
my cheeks get red and
my heart beats too fast
we barely know one another
but we know one another
better than either of our
partners ever could
there’s an open door now
we’re on either side of it
I guess the question is:
will either of us go through?
31 October 2013
Oak Street
request
late-October sunlight
through the blinds
I’m lying in bed
asking you to come here
so I can see
what you’ll look like
when the sun hits your hair
and highlights the freckles
all over your body
30 October 2013
Oak Street
519
the sunlight from
the unseen window
bright hair framing
the soft lines of your face
your necklace dropping
below the photo’s edge
(the suggestion as tantalizing
as the image itself)
the sharp, familiar vowels
of my childhood
as close as the phone
as far as another planet
29 October 2013
Oak Street
the man in the waiting room
my grandpa never wore
a fedora like the one
the old man is wearing
as he leans over my desk
(at least not when I knew him)
my grandpa didn’t have
the same bulbous Fields nose
showing the signs of
too many upward bends
of the elbow
but something about this man
as he asks me for a pen
to do the crossword
causes tears to fill my eyes
and I have to look away
28 October 2013
Oak Street
Jack
I remember him
as a cute little blond kid
up at the big house
north of everywhere
the next time we met
he was a real person
with likes and dislikes
and a favorite shirt
“Jack writes some
great sentences”
his dad told me
(Jack comes from writers)
later, he explained
a medical video game
in great detail, full of
cuts and sutures
I smiled, wondering
what had happened
in the middle years
to create this boy
for dinner we had
homemade Indian food
Jack complimented his mom
on the meal
27 October 2013
Oak Street
Thay
(for Thich Nhat Hanh)
his voice
a low, reedy
instrument
filling the hall
just a few notes
hard d’s and t’s
like punches
“we need the
mud [punch]
to make the
lotus” [pause]
someone rings
the deep bell
he waits for it
to fade away
26 October 2013
Oak Street
this is what happened when I saw you again
your skeleton is showing like an x-ray
there’s a glow in your eyes from the flash
(I’ve seen them when they’re glowing
while you lay on top of me, palms in the grass
bending down to kiss me as hard as you could
with a summer moon like a halo around your head
or after that, upstairs on my bed, your white shirt
above me like clouds in a blue sky, a scarf
at your neck, backed by smooth white skin)
it took me by surprise, seeing you again
I’d been careful to not let that happen
I still feel the way I felt, even after
the river of words and touches became
a vast silent sea that I couldn’t cross
I wasn’t sure if those feelings were still there
but there you were and suddenly
my hands were shaking, my heart
pounding like a marathoner’s
but there was nowhere to run to
so I wrote this poem
25 October 2013
Oak Street
the first autumn snow
fell wet and heavy today
it’s already gone
24 October 2013
Oak Street
Kill Devil Hills
he was in the air for nine minutes
gliding over Kill Devil Hills
October 24, 1902
it would be 10 years before anyone
stayed in the air longer
than Orville did that day
technically speaking
he spent 9 minutes 45 seconds
above the ground
when you’re measuring
flights of less than 10 minutes
every second counts
14 months later
the brothers would return, flying
with a powered plane
thus would Kill Devil Hills
become the portal through which
a shrunken world emerged
24 October 2013
Oak Street
adding up
one day there are six, then none
a grumbling in the stomach
a trembling in the hands
then the mailbox delivers more
so it’s a cupboard full of noodles
a plastic container of miso paste
a small bag of Japanese rice
using every part of the cucumber
twice through on each tea bag
one chair in this room, one in that
but there are books to read
Duke Ellington records to listen to
a cushion under the window for meditating
and sometimes a smelly dog
and sometimes two lively boys
22 October 2013
Oak Street
tonight
started with crying
over unwanted homework
we figured out math problems
then read about superheroes
planned for the World Series
ate french fries with ketchup
wrestled in the living room
until two heads collided
tears again, briefly
it ended with snuggling
the smell of the dog
on the sheets and pillows
21 October 2013
Oak Street
inheritance
John’s watching Ghostbusters
at a little glass table
in the guest bedroom
every time he chuckles at
one of the laugh lines
I feel like a successful father
there’s no family estate to pass on
so I’m making do with
Ray, Venkman and Egon
the same way my grandfather
gave me Nat Cole and Glen Gray
on the turntable in the credenza
John’s laughing again as the guys
take down Slimer in the dining room
I put one arm around him, pull him close
20 October 2013
Oak Street