Girl Riding Her Bike at A Park

Round and round the circle she goes,

riding as fast as she can.

She wants to arrive at womanhood.

She wants to take wing and fly.

She does not know that some day soon

she will ride just as fast with a great deal of ease.

She will be behind the time, of course,

but she will barely be aware of that.

She will gaze at the trees and the grass as they shine

like peridot and emerald beneath a violet sky,

and the tufts of the flowers and the light from the west

will echo her children’s laughter

as they do their best to keep their mother’s pace.

Retching

Life is too sweet to gulp down all at once.

That’s what my therapist told me.

I told her I wanted to live like fire, 

Always burning, always catching upon every impulse

Like a child given free reign at a candy store.

How can I resist the chocolate covered cherries,

The sugared pecans, the candied apples,

These sanctified fruits, these sugary blossoms,

These glistening treasures that hold the secret of childhood

Within their crystalline shells?

How can one simply...see all this beauty

And not dive right in?

She laughed and said,

Sounds fun. But then you’d get sick.

She is right, of course.

Today, I watched children playing at a dirty fountain in a park,

Their hands and legs covered in mud,

Their eyes full of mischief and glee.

I let their joy consume me, their laughter

Run like sugar through my veins.

Even after their mother had called them away,

I felt the dancing of their little feet upon my heart,

The vibration of their laughter cascading down my spine.

So much joy made me sick.

Now, I have this
To offer you.

Truth and Beauty

As I stand with you here at the lookout
Watching the sun set behind the hills,
I find myself full of questions
I can't begin to find the answers to.

But I'd rather be a fool staring at a sunset with you
Than a sage who, like the sun, goes down
Slowly on the horizon of his life,
Full of fire, perhaps, but alone.

Walk After A Nap

I woke from my nap with the early evening light

Shining on my face. Kindled like a fire, I rose from my bed

And took to the streets.

As I made my way to the promenade,

I passed many beautiful women

Who seemed to catch like wildfires

Upon the eyes of every man.

I passed a pretty yellow house

With a white picket fence,

Behind which a garden

Of roses, tulips, and morning glories

Was growing, and it seemed the flowers

Blushed as I passed.

I reached the promenade

And looked out over the water.
The river wound its way through the channel

Like a serpent destined to kiss the sea.

The Intractability of Time

I.
My father bought me a bike when I was nine

So that I could ride away from him.

He never asked me to come back

But I did and he seemed surprised.

My father’s desperation has grown with time.

Eager to create something

To compensate for all that he’s destroyed.

He created me.

And he destroyed me, and recreated me in turn,

Like a god trying to mold me in his image,

But like Adam, I rebelled.

II.

“Silence!” my father commanded me.

I was silent but my eyes screamed.

The silence buried me.

I walked around, choosing my words carefully.

Such was the silence that I could not contain a scream.

My father came and commanded me, “Silence!” once again.

This time I rebelled. I yelled, screamed, spat in his face.

He smiled. “Do as you must,” he said, and walked away.

III.

I see my father now and again.

He has pardoned my sin with silence.

Time has worn him thin.

He wrestles with death on a daily basis.

No longer does he command me to be silent,

But instead, bids me speak,

To confess everything that I have buried,

But I cannot, and he sighs, and walks away.

I do not expect him to return.

In Vino Verius

I can tell by the way your eyes shimmer,
That you see something you like.
I've been lounging in the blue inner tube
Of your iris all night,
Drinking from the glass of wine you poured,
Assuring me it was alright,
That Linda was well stocked on bottles,
And that this one she barely even liked;
Getting ever drunker and more in tune
With the slow undulation
Of your voice,
I've found I've reached my limit
Of drunkenness and lust.
My eyes are tired of treading your waters,
My tongue, of shedding tusks.
Let's bite the fruit while the fruit is ripe.
Blow out the lurid matchmaker candle,
Though she has been good to us.
Let's discover what it means to touch,
To transform, to feel,
Know darkness in lust,
And love
As taste.