12.10.2009

Left


unwrapped,
the joy we had
yesterday before
your mom called
to say your father's brain
tumor is cancerous
has staled
and must be thrown out

11.23.2009

Crumbs


for three-quarters price, marked

down for clearance, making room
for something more relevant

this is my love, bought on a whim:

gifts, cheaply tendered
by the drug store, chocolates

offered sheepishly in the bag
with the coupons that bought them


and this room, when I open the door

first and take lead, dropping clothes
to their piles, takes stock of me;

crumbs buried in the carpet, small
plastic pieces of garbage, soda

tabs dropped, unpopped kernels, bits
flicked and brushed, long strands

settled invisible under foot

11.09.2009

Spitwad

this is your revelry -- Christmas light lit,
all bodies in clothing unmoving and jostled,
cupping the sound like a hand on your ear,
a hand on your heart

but a hard slap, a hot Cuban hand on the head
of the drum will unstick like an arrow, stick like
a spitwad on a chalkboard, stick and peel off
all flat and impressed