Being with Alison

I was almost her

Before the bony fingers 

Of time

Began to tug my face

Like putty, sinkening 

Under his merciless groping 

Pinching and plying my skin into

Mean, furrowed clefts 

She’s beautiful 

And when she laughs

Her hair lifts off her breasts 

Her eyes search for the vulnerable 

And the yearning.

We suffer while   

She occupies the space where we all breathe 

I feel myself disappear.

I examine with lumbering dread 

My hands 

As they evaporate 

My legs that blur into a vapy fog

The contours of my face soften into obscurity 

My mind is a flurry 

Of distress 

And in the wedge of space 

I still possess 

I perch on my haunches,

A vulture, 

Brimming with despair 

She is my torment 

And I am a creature of remorse. 

The Road You're On

You don’t have the money to feed your kids  

And you worry all the time  

About how you will afford the gas to get to work each day  

The backyard needs mowing  

And the carpets are spotted in filmy grays and browns  

Legos beating up the bottom of your feet  

And toys you didn’t realize were around anymore  

Plodding in clustered corners  

Like forgotten weeds  

While you struggle vehemently  

With your insides  

Wondering if anyone can love you  

Really love you  

Because the apocalypse of age  

Looms recklessly closer  

And your veneer of confidence  

Tired and beaten  

Verges on utter collapse.

You thought maybe he loved you  

So you gave and gave  

Until you were handing out offerings  

From your internal cesspool,  

Still giving, nonetheless.  

He doesn’t love you after all, does he?  

And slipped away in the dead of night  

With all your cash  

And your last stick of gum  

That you needed  

Because you are all out of toothpaste  

And don’t get paid for another  

Week.      

You don’t give your love away for free  

Anymore and now your heart darkens  

Just a tiny bit more...  

And you’ll never get over this one,  

You know that,  

Because you gave him everything  

And now you have nothing left.

Scissors, please

I ache for freedom.

For that cold, metal key

Just the right combination,

Just the right fee…

I want my soul free

From your malevolent strings

I’ve been gripping for life on

You’re severed, stripped wings

Spiraling quickly

Into your chemical sea. 

Who can love an empty vessel?

Who swims those venomous seas? 

I labored in your death camp

Let you strip my dignity

Let your perch upon my shoulder

In stoic sovereignty.  

The Family Meeting

Your eyes, pleasantly cloudy,

Idly indifferent

When the case worker

Brings the child into the room.

You pull out your phone

Browse through the latest

Slander on Facebook

While your child

Lays placidly

In a lively pink car seat,

Oblivious to your estrangement.    

We all watch you from our seats

And with impeccable determination

Refuse to criticize

What we don’t understand.