*I suffer from indecision, my grandmother’s hips and endless possibility,
from the reality of serial killers, to the beaten aspect of my ascension sign, InDesign, Version 23 and my own inability to convince my
“Once upon a time” lover of my serious intentions, my directions, and my perfect faith in physics.
Through the looking glass, I have fallen
My fingers trace each other on the membrane
of what is the silky strand of a memory of his olive – skin
what the email tells me is now a cancerous — skin,
I wonder where it was, if I touched it
If I touched it again if I could convince it to go away
The rain that last day,
having swept over the city,
left a pink sky
Left that summer heat, water, pavement, oil smell in the air
The one time we took the cage that weekend was to his buddy’s house to pick up parts for the Night Train
He tried to tell the steering wheel
how he felt, while
felt like an intruder,
it was before he even knew, how to explain to someone
How to explain the rain that day,
the black switch-back roads,
the sail boats and yachts,
the green, the pastures, so green, do you remember the trees, how wet the bark?
how to explain sliding forward on a sudden stop,
the wind in our helmets,
Romeo and Juliet
cigar chill in the late summer morning air
The rain the rain the rain
I said, “I’ll write a poem.”
He said, “I’d like to read your poem, but how do you explain?”
That day on the bike, winding through the streets of Suffolk County by Long Island Sound
Picture perfect towns,
horse country, the
making Kincaid colors run The sun hid
and so (oh baby), I have learned to be submissive to these things I will never understand,
in the Alanon meetings they teach things, like, how we’re all control freaks for a reason but
you are the one who taught me how to pray again,
and God, I pray you hear me,
God grant me
The Serenity to accept that he and I were close and that ONE DAY I LOST HIM.
to find the words, though
each one gouge
A cruel surgeon’s scalpel, each
word blood covered
The wisdom to enjoy every suffering as though it were the last, God
And if I pray it’s not the last God,
Will you grant the strength to endure it this one last time?
And God forgive me,
But after all this time he’s still the one who hangs the moon.
*photograph taken from a blog I found on one of those click throughs on the blog stats page. anyway, I lost the url to this lady’s blog, but this was her actual car from when she moved from Texas and all I remember from the blog the pic was with this quote from her neighbor or something saying, “guess you shoulda removed the bumper sticker before you moved to Texas.” But for me the picture is worth a thousand words. Wish I could give credit. Such a great photo.