okay.

they are making an
omelette
at eight am
on a thursday morning.

the cutting of the peppers,
the thin slices of onion,
the crush of the garlic beneath
his knife,
the texture of the cheese
crumbling beneath his
still dull fingertips,
the crisp crack of the egg
against the side of the bowl--

each sensation greets him
like an old familiar friend.

as he scoops the
ingredients up to toss
them in the pan,
he steadies himself on the
edge of the counter with his
good hand

and breaths in slowly,
fighting his mind
for balance.

okay?
she asks,
her patient hands guiding,
steadying,
his bulky frame.

okay,
he says.
okay.

Phytotherapy + It's Going to Take a Long Time (2 poems for catching up)

Yeah, St. John's Wort
brought me back to myself,
but not the self
I'd hoped
to see. When
I was small I felt so often
so frustrated and impotent.
If What I Want
doesn't change at all
The Way Things Are,
why bother wanting?

-

All day long at the store
while I looked like a clown and fed vanity
the radio played:
well-turned love songs from the 1940s
a more innocent time
when we could deny sex
and pretend that everyone was white.

People in love aren't cute and funny.
They are the reason I can't sleep through the night.
I need help. I don't feel capable.
I wish I'd spent my time learning
things other than how to tie a bow tie.

Epic

2 people
4 breakups
in 4 years
in 8 countries
8 states
and in between, 8 interim lovers
and every time I look back on it
and think I know what happened
I happen to talk to him
and then I think,
"No, that wasn't it either."

and then there were...

5
five
cinq
vijf
fünf
한국어
cinco
По-русски
cinque
日本語

First person rural (A robbery)

I.

And he walks me over                    "Look at that,"

he says 

       turning green                 as he 

talks.

 I could tell him something about

              a raw tree, so to speak

              an incredible

  woods                                         with

knots,

         full. But I don't get into that. I

                                                            head on down to the city

II.

Because we              always leave

          when I come

                                                   she is holding

                                                               out.

We are going first to Brusca Ica.

   We get nowhere

                            in the narrow little shop.

We never even get it across that we are trying.

III.

But I also have

                            done

                                      that could 

be called                 more. Over the years

I've 

   started from a state of ignorance,

                                   I have made

every mistake but one.                     I've put up a 

fence 

instead.

Put the small

          thing 

long before.

           I blundered.

IV.

I wasn't                             my pulp,

          my new woods.    

       I know now they were.

    Even then I knew it.

  But I hadn't thought of it yet.  

Top 8

A pattern is forming
Phone talkers

Sean McC two weeks of talking, one night of passion, one day of dude, will you please leave my apartment we’re not in a committed relationship

Big Dick Dave one answered call, a wrong number, but we were hooked, talking to a stranger for weeks until it got too real

Thaddraps on the J platform day one
day two truth or dare
day four rainy night, bad sex, tense sandwich and a hug goodbye
phone fight on day six I don’t get you
day 12 sex again, broke the bed, no one came, you’re not a cuddler
late night/early morning calls day 22-123
day 127 your girlfriend called, should have known.

Vic knew better, figured it out the first time
A month of passion and flirtatious texting
Insert pet name here.
Don’t put that there.

Shakim didn’t know when to stop calling
Forced to lie and stop answering the phone
Another missed call from Private.

G.B. snorted too much powder and it clouded his head
Another one got the nice treatment he didn’t deserve
Best advice I ever got ‘don’t be with someone you feel sorry for’

Mr. J best yet
Phone calls, texts and emails pouring in and out
but won’t come over
Makes plans, breaks plans

He doesn’t know the pattern.

Gotta break the pattern.

TWENTY-FOUR

oh nevada,
you desolate hourglass
of pavement
each kiss
we motorize
is a parched
promise, each
clapboard pawn
shop a potential
engagement ring dealership.

vast, vanishing
expanse -- are you sleeping? -- somehow
I've come to be in
states like this one:
foot all the way down
on the pedal
pushing through
not to notice
writhing details -
the tumbleweed,
the tree with all its
branches covered in sneakers,
the great salt mountain.

twenty-four could be
my highway driving year
route fifty
the loneliest road in america

Watching The Wishing List

The -- what on earth -- being
That one thing
claimed

Bells accumulate, and rice –
all at once the world,
it screams

Cat creeps by and
snow snakes blow

We try to read,
and we try again

Island life, my island
Island of my life

Perfect fingernails,
corn-kernel bless-you
tallons that
tell you
what to do.