Category: Poetry

Admission

All these plants
& photos
& little figurines
are how I cope
with the truth
of your leaving.

/ / /

13 April 2024
Charlottesville VA
NaPoWriMo Day 13

My Plan To Create Mystique Through The Use Of Publicly Posted Cryptic Verse,
Or, How I Thirst-Trapped My Way To A Love Life

I’ll just keep writing poems about you
until someone asks me who they’re about.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I’ll say.
Then I’ll smile cagily and walk away.

/ / /

12 April 2024
Charlottesville VA
NaPoWriMo Day 12

Bargaining

They sit across the table
negotiating, bargaining.
I’ll cede the overnights
if you’ll agree to—

It never works out.
You can drive around
the cul de sac as many
times as you want.

OK but what if we—
They start again,
thinking surely this time
they’ll uncover a new angle.

The narrow beam moves
across the timeline,
illuminating them both,
but not together.

/ / /

10 April 2024
Charlottesville VA
NaPoWriMo Day 10

The Upstairs Neighbors Stomp

The upstairs neighbors stomp
like they were never taught to be quiet;
were never told they were taking up
too much space;
were never given love
only to have it taken away.
They crash across the hardwood floor
like people who are sure they belong;
who expect others to make do;
who deserve not just physical room
but sonic space as well.
The downstairs neighbor listens to music
with headphones after a certain hour;
doesn’t do laundry at night;
tries to close doors quietly.
The downstairs neighbor knows
it can all go south at any moment;
the solid ground can melt away;
the love once thought permanent
can steal away in the night like a thief.

/ / /

9 April 2024
Charlotteville VA
NaPoWriMo Day 9

Love Is

Love is watching your friend get a tattoo, then going for ice cream from the gas station.

Love is “I’m going to kiss you,” right there on the street in front of the whole town.

Love is learning to make the Gen Alpha heart sign with your index and middle fingers.

Love is picking up pads from the store.

Love is sitting on the lawn because it’s been a tough day.

Love is El Comalito and a good book read aloud.

Love is unexpected and awe-inspiring and also tiny and subtle.

Love is your hype crew.

Love is the shoulders you cry on.

Love is a quartet, two duos, four solos.

Love is the beginning of this poem, and it’s ending.

/ / /

7 April 2024
Charlottesville VA
NaPoWriMo Day 7

Crook

Leaning in the front yard,
single foot jammed into soil,
arms unencumbered,
my purpose unsure.

Squirrels search at my base
but it’s too late,
they’ve carried off the bounty
they themselves freed.

Across the street a cousin,
metal-skirted,
holds aloft
the birds’ delight.

I long for my turn.

/ / /

6 April 2024
Charlottesville VA
NaPoWriMo Day 6

Who’s Afraid Of The Apocalypse?

The world ending?
Bring it on.
Mine has ended several times:
When I discovered being a kid
wouldn’t protect me;
when I ended up on the street;
when the “I do” didn’t;
in a series of shitbox vans.
There were so many moments
when a meteor or The Rapture (TM)
would have been preferable.
But here I am, and here you are,
and the world is still turning,
and earlier today my friend
dropped their pandemic mask
and it fell to the sidewalk,
so we know gravity still works.

/ / /

4 April 2024
Charlottesville VA
NaPoWriMo Day 4

Kitty

Really I barely knew her.
She was the wife
of my great-uncle Bill,
and I barely knew him either.
Neither of my kids
would even recognize their names.
But she sat in a room once,
maybe with the sun coming in,
and painted a delicate pitcher
full of flowers.
Was it there in the room?
Did she use a photograph?
Had she always wanted to be a painter?

/ / /

3 April 2024
Charlottesville VA
NaPoWriMo Day 3

Winter Is For Big Bands

It’s when the sax soli starts that you know:
a more sure sign than the fire or the snow.
I miss him the most then, and the records
he’d play for me in front of the credenza
with the turntable hidden inside.
That’s where it started for me,
and that’s where I find refuge
during the winters of the world.
Glen Gray under his skies,
Artie Shaw as the cocoa cools
enough to drink.

/ / /

2 April 2024
Charlottesville VA
NaPoWriMo Day 2

The Memory Of Faith

I keep being told I love fiercely and well,

yet when the music stops I am left

without a chair,

watching the other lovers sit.

I no longer like this game.

Let the music continue —

I’ll hear the faint strains of song

as I walk to my fitted apartment,

back to the plants and the memory

of faith.

/ / /

1 April 2024
Charlottesville VA
NaPoWriMo 2024 Day 1