Tag: love

the Lion

I’m at 125th street, waiting. in an
exhausted daze, took
the wrong train
again. story
of my life. next to me
a woman clutches a pamphlet
with a crudely drawn cartoon
of a lion on it.

“There’s a Lion
looking for you,” it reads.
it’s just some creepy
Xtian tract, but the phrase
haunts me. I’m reminded of
the Tarot card for Strength,
and of Narnia.

where’s my Lion? has he
found me yet? will
he eat me already, and free me
from this hell of my own
making? or am I already
inside his belly – is that why
everything feels so very
dark?

Continue reading the Lion

the worst

yes, that movie was just
the absolute
worst! except for the parts
when it was the best.

if I could edit out
the bad parts,
the parts that made me cry
and rage and storm,
I’d buy tickets
again and again.
I’d buy the DVD.
(it was better than CATS, better
than E.T.!)
if I didn’t remember
the good parts, I’d think
I was crazy for not walking out
of the theater
within the first
five minutes.

what do you do
with a trainwreck
like that?

to my problematic friend, whose name may be Andrew

I had to unblock you
because of the project I am doing,
which I could have excluded you from
but did not feel it would be ethical
to do so. I see you now
in cyberspace; you are no longer
shunned. but I don’t want to
Like your posts
in the group we are both in
because Liking leads to tagging
which leads to PM’ing
which leads to fighting
which leads to blocking and ignoring
in real life. we’ve been
through this cycle
too many times before.

Continue reading to my problematic friend, whose name may be Andrew

rush hour

fighting my way
through the crowd at Grand Central
I see how very many people
there are in the world. you have to
know exactly where you’re going
and be determined to brook
no delays, to make it
when there are so many other
salmon swimming against
the current.

it’s like that with love, I think.
there are a million girls out there
who are prettier
than me. there are a million boys out there
who could keep me company,
if I wanted any. but there’s no one
exactly like me, and no one
exactly like you. does it
really matter? my love will be
all-consuming or it will be
bullshit. life’s too short
for half measures.

the window

it’s been open
for some time now.
we both know it.

but. just so you know,
it won’t be
forever.

your five year plan
is about four years too long
for me. life’s too short
to wait that long
to be happy.

I’m starting to
believe that I deserve
to be happy. not for
nothing, but you do
too. neither of us
is the worst. why
are we punishing ourselves?

I feel in my heart
that we could be happy
together. I know
feelings aren’t facts,
but I’d rather try
and love each other while
we’re both still alive
than forever wonder
what could have been.

let’s not
stall and dither
and let the feeling die
and wither on the vine.
let’s drink our wine
and get while the getting’s
good. and if not,
please get
gone.

those girls

Amelia is easily enraged and
often ugly. MaryAnn
is omnipresent and annoyingly
persistent. and you’re definitely
better off without
Laura’s lovesick laments.

I, too, am quick to outrage
and get ugly often
so I feel you, Amelia.
I, too, am lovesick
and want more
than what’s on offer,
so I feel you MaryAnn
and Laura.

those girls you sing about
feel so very familiar
under their various aliases.
in fact, they seem like
pretty cool chicks,
if their only real crime
is liking you.
you should introduce me
sometime. unless perhaps I
already know them, maybe even
as well as I know myself.

re: our angelic friend

yes, he was drunk, but
our friend Raphael was not
talking nonsense last night
anywhere near as much
as you thought. all the things
he did and said, like getting you to say
you loved him
in front of me
and saying how good it was
to see us “guys” together
in that strange, knowing tone
and telling us to get out of there
with an odd half-smile
and finally when he ranted
about how you needed to
look up at the sky
– from which the rain
was falling in giant
unmistakable drops,
impossible to ignore, like a sign
from heaven – were direct references
to that subject, the one about which
we dare not speak. that’s why
I didn’t tell you about it
after we left him,
because then
we’d have to speak about it.

Continue reading re: our angelic friend