Month: July 2016

swimming upstream

in a sea of Salmon bros
of both sexes, I am full of
disdain. they’re just so loud
and coarse, and though I’m
definitely capable of being
both of those things, compared to
these Neanderthals, I look demure
and dare I say it, classy.
one would think
that would make me like
them better, but it doesn’t.
I’m embarrassed on their
behalf. they’re having fun
but they’re just so oblivious to how
very obnoxious they are.
they grate on my last nerve
like nails on a chalkboard.

the mines of Moria

the local tracks are all
under construction.
the express train crawls
past this work as if
it’s trying to show it to me –
yards and yards of tunnels
filled with the ever-present
graffiti and lit sporadically
with bright rows of temporary lights,
revealing the men – wearing
orange vests, toting flashlights
and camel-colored canvas bags,
scratching their heads
with gloved hands over a trolley
full of electrical devices – all working
through the night. sometimes
they’re tramping in single file,
sometimes they cluster in great
clumps, like ants on some
purposeful, yet ultimately mysterious
mission. I see secret doors
and ladders, hidden, scrawled glyphs
beneath the platform
of my own station, some full
of the detritus of construction
and others newly washed,
their ceramic tiles gleaming white
in the fluorescent lights
as a freshly brushed tooth.

Continue reading the mines of Moria

the famous feud

I can’t believe your parents
never told you about the
infamous feud
between the Dan
and the Eagles. the latter
put that line in their worst,
most famous song
about stabbing
with steely knives
but not being able to kill
the beast, after the former
thoroughly trashed them
in the press. the Dan then
returned the rather dubious favor
by casually insulting the latter
in a song about a cheating wife
and a man who wants to hear
all the details, but tells her
to turn up the Eagles, the
neighbors are listening.

I suppose, given what
you told me about your parental
allegiances, it does make
a kind of sense. one
likes the one and the other
likes the other, and if they revealed
that their two musical heroes
hated each other, it might imply
that you had to take sides.
for that I respect them.
my parents loved both bands,
apparently more than they loved
each other.

a castle in the clouds

after a hard day’s
night spent adventuring
with friends, I debate
my next steps. should
I return to my castle
in the clouds, where
my cats and my solitude,
my leftovers and my air-conditioning,
my big bag of m&m’s,
and my familiar demon
sadness await? or
should I go to that basement
in the village where
a good number
of my friends are
probably still performing
at one of the mics?

Continue reading a castle in the clouds

Invisalign

the last time we were
intimate
I was wearing my braces,
which – unlike the
torture devices I wore
as a teenager,
nearly thirty years ago –
are now just
a thin sheath of plastic
to protect my teeth and
guide them to where
they’re supposed
to be. where’s the
equivalent device
for my heart?

Janus & me

when you’re with me, I
feel it, that spark.
my mind is calmed
and my body is
present. our bodies
speak to each other
in their own language.

it’s just
when you’re not physically
here that I doubt
and make myself crazy
second-guessing – you,
me, both of us,
the whole thing.

I don’t mean
to be of two minds,
and therefore
have two faces.
I bet Janus
didn’t mean
to be that way
either.

flies II

the French
have these little screens
they put over food
to keep it free
of flies.

I wonder why
accommodate
these flying nuisances.
is it because
they accept that there
will always be a fly,
that problems and irritants
are a fact of life, that these
flies are real and they’re
not going anywhere, so
they must just be
lived with?

or are the Frogs just
too lazy
to put up flypaper?