Cold Damn House

The electric box of inefficient warm is set high,
but the fan pushing the orange hot cools it on impact.
You’d think the oil heater on the other side
would play its part, spew some warm.
Instead it pretends all is well.
The glass patio door makes sure of that.
Heat rises, so the ice air bites at my ankles.
I can’t feel my feet.
I think of the hot summers from years long gone –
the hot pavement shimmering in the radiant day,
but the tile floor and the glass door are still.
Tonight they stare, catatonic, heartless –
relentless refrigerators of my nibbled spirit.
So I put on a housecoat over my jeans and layers,
a tortoise shell against the frigid room,
drink my tea, dance my blood, and wait
for summer or pneumonia
whichever comes first.

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She

she looks into me
        and speaks herself

she dreams me full

she blushes me timid

she smiles me happy

she resets me patient

she scares me furious
            … but sweet

inside somewhere i'm white
                as a sheet

but …

she holds me static
            sultry
                    magnetic

her skin tingles me
her heart pounds me
her push pulls me
my want reaches
                    for she.

The Sweeper and My Persian Rugs

The endless breath of memory until my lungs explode
and shards of passion and longing burst like fireworks
into my subconscious where my cleaning crew
rush to sweep self-loathing under rugs.
But the Persians are already stained and cannot hide
anymore mountains of repressed guilt and shame.
And besides, says the Sweeper, do you really want to forget? Continue reading 

nowhere is not always insignificant

we talked and in our ramblings 
    got nowhere
i felt

(not that lack of feeling meaning
        means that lack 
    of significance has taken place)

our romantic phone drippings
    were sincere 
and true

(oh, if only i could feel her, 
        heat and breath
moist and electric)

and i know talk can sometimes be
        just that
circumstances dealt

(and maybe "nowhere" is
        just a mirage)

mysteriously, curiously, physically, 
        emotionally, intellectually, inquisitively …
all i know is i miss her.

Alcedo atthis -water -splash-8

I Don’t Want to Leave

snow caps on mountains, and valleys
barren tan fresh looking basins
green clumps and sprinkles of trees
each inch a mile, and time hastens.

brightness in my eyes –
i tug the blind halfway.
periwinkle skies –
beautiful travel day.

sleepy and warm, i drift to dreams
and wait for the house to fade …
twist back time, unfabric the seams
back to kisses and touches made …

eastbound I-80 – drowsy driver warning

tender lasting (Oct 1999)

into my impossible she sneaks
out of my longing she speaks
for seconds or for a day
time is irrelevant that way
she catches my love constant
and recasts for a bigger bite

    and she doesn't even know she's fishing
        every moment near her i'm wishing
                and often recasting
                for a tender lasting

                                    bigger bite

English: Fly Fishing, Sandwick