new choice

when I was done he wrapped his arms around me:
sweet, he kept saying, I'd never thought of you that way but you are, you are so sweet, you are so sweet.
 it felt like he'd discovered it, even though I knew from where.
I didn't feel embarrassed though I do a bit now.
the whole room glowed with the words I told him I liked about myself, the room I made for myself.
the deep respect of knowing myself and sharing, and it being okay.
Seeing home, seeing myself, not alone.

I turned away with wet eyes, not ready for him to know a story yet, or not ready to tell it.
I can't stop thinking of times here where I welled up with feelings,
wells that suck up power and fill with shame.
I don't want to rewrite the anger, here.
I want to fill those old holes with new memories
I want to make those new piles of patterns
I want, I can, I choose.

Bike in Shop

I have many thoughts and would like to reply.

Yes.

Somewhere between 3 and 7?

Yes One year?

prioritizing things like eating and cleaning and running and groceries And I realized

could any of you pick me up

...sigh

or come for a cup of tea

YEA and canned soup and ore Ida fries

Lol!

between six and eight?

After dinner I began to fall asleep at the table.  I'm sorry,
I told my hosts.  I feel like I only started doing this
after I started working these crazy hours.  What are you
talking about, my hosts said.  You've been this way as
long as we've known you. Then I remembered a night out
with them in 2007 when the bouncer told me, one whiskey
in and scarcely past nine o'clock in the evening, as I began
to nod, that I would have to perk up or leave the bar.

still some youth left in us

we walked across Brooklyn
and burned our paper wishes
in a BBQ pit
and as fireworks burst above our heads
we stood in a circle
and passed around the bottle
some taking longer sips
and excused ourselves to pee behind the bushes
and ducked down conspicuously when the cops drove by
but didn't stop

Mutualities

They take cash at the door
and it's all a sham
(Reciprocal)

Moving men's mumbo jumbo
More secrets to spill to your
spare ear

The cult of us is
piled up high
Imagined syllables --
Permutations of names that were
never ours

Mermaids In My Dream

for Desiree and Teresa

Sisters
swim together
fish tailed
mermaids
free to be happy

Moon and all her oceans
sea of serenity
sea of tranquility
sea of crisis
all calm
east on the moon
west in the sky
east in the sky
west on the moon
and here on earth

There are no borders in my dream
no lock downs, nervous breakdowns
or shakedowns

Sisters can walk
foreign streets in the moonlight
in my dream
no need for fear in stardust
or a moonless night
late at night in maxi dresses
mini skirts, skin tight jeans
naked as the wind
in my dream

Sisters are free to be happy
wrapped in silly laughter
and safe in each other's arms

Fish tailed
mermaids
can swim
in dreams
of their
own
devising

Making
visions
in the echoes
of crashing waves
glittery music notes

You can hear
all kinds
of jazz improvisations
hip hop, R & B
and mambo
combinations
in my dream

In my dream

Moon and all her oceans
are yours
to explore
down to her very
core

I'd give it all to you
and more

Sisters

and my own breath

if I could

Keep, Trash or Donate.

It’s not enough that you died

but now I have to clean

out all your shit

and you have a lot

of shit.

I say that with affection.

Bonus points to you

for keeping the movie stubs

of that awful Exorcist movie

we saw on our first date

and that birthday card diorama

I gave you

when you turned

a spry 26

and things were hopeful.

By the way-

Why the fuck

did you keep

your baby teeth

in a tiny jar

tucked away in

your sock drawer?

The tooth fairy

ain’t home.

My hostility hangs

heavily on the line

But reader-don’t ask

for the details.

We only air

our clean laundry.

Keep, trash, or donate.

Well

I poisoned the well, it was me, leave the bucket in there, I want the water to run clear and I want to see you reach for the handle, try to wind, walk away, wind, relinquish, forever distrust the water running clear, something else wasted because of reasons and all of the blame, got to get the set, Mexico '86, in the Panini sticker book, squads completed, the world of that summer understood, indiscriminate collector instinct making the world less fantastical, you've got the set, what of superstition, what of the scapegoat?

VISITING

Visiting is (either) gasping or just saying

fuck time and showing your teeth.

My smile’s just a breathing pattern.

The smoke is just the air, a contradiction.

The city’s spirit is a murky marble,

a callused pearl extracted from something fleshier.

It’s in the linoleum, it’s in the ferry terminal.

It’s in the grease of the barmaid’s hair.

And you in your hat, calling a cab.

And you in your hat, on loving loop.

And you against the water as it shows itself

more blue than any shame.