Category: Poems

smooth mud, packed into cakes
creaking chains on swings
held with wet palms
hair dripping in strands
from a run under the sprinkler
the secret things we did
hidden upstairs in your garage
all the games we played
running bases monkey in the middle
Chinese school hands clenched
tight around pebbles and then
there are the games with
no names with feathers
pursed lips air blown on bare skin
you the only one who I wrestled
who I swore allegiance best best friend
the one who climbed beside me
no matter where I went who let me
put up her hair pose her beside the willow
let me touch her catholic thighs who
slipped her fingers over me blew hot
dreams into all my lips and seams even
when your mother opened the door
and saw us even then Madeline
you were my best friend

Showcase Press
Issue one  2006

smells of oil and driftwood
of candle wax and melted solder
chips of things we find in our
bed in our clothes our hair
so far we have come close
to stamping each other out
erasing each other in a series
of ratcheting needs spelled out
in early morning arguments
amazing how little we can say
without listening you would talk
of ants while I am on the theme
of butterflies when I come over
to put my tongue on your neck
you ask if I have turned
the generator on I sit back and
think of planting crops while you
would have us out there cutting
trees gravel spits up when your
car pulls out of my driveway
my dishes clank
together in the sink and I remember
the first time I pushed my face
against your sunwarmed shirt
the smell of seaweed wild roses
and wet leaves

published in:

Showcase Press
Issue one  2006