Love Poems
Love poems are shit.
Shit. Love. Pray.
Or, was it, Eat Love Shit?
Either way. Struggle.
Mindful, mindless
Ghosting. Window pane
Window into pain.
Ice forms on glass, crackling.
Winters are cold here.
Smoke. ignite. Dissolve
My hands turn red, then blue.
Yellow tar.
Snow fell. I was falling. Star
Smoke Rings
Smoke rings into square pegs, ashtray eyes.
She held the cigarette like dart. Aiming it. Bullseye.
The sycamores were full of birds. Song birds. Love birds.
The soup was cold. Served white bowl diner.
Smoke rings. She made them perfect. Open mouth, lipstick cool. Puff…
I rested, coffee tired. Eyes dark circle, vulture.
Death in a vinyl booth. She smiled.
Staring hazy cloud. Eggs Benedict. 3am sleepless.
She blew smoke rings. Round pegs. Ashtray eyes.
Match sticks, vulnerable, struck heat. No more.
Orange Bike
He dared me.
Party, after party. Drunk.
Gay. Not me. Maybe?
Never sure. Never cared.
That was a kiss. So what?
Laughter, we followed
with whispered. Maybe?
Then New York. Magnetic.
Over and out.
Never again. Only a kiss.
No regret. Philadelphia was my courage. Orange bike.
Summer Lover
She. Beautiful, brown.
Black.
Stronger than aware.
My heart scraping
sidewalk gum. Sneakers
She was smiling.
Acting. Poet. Proud.
We were different. Same
Everyone kisses
like magic
at first.
White. Me. Nervous.
Brown. Her. Hesitant
Lips, soft. We were free
We stopped. Summer,
overheated. Modern lovers.
Radiator cool. She Was.