Sunday Mornings

There’s something about cloudy moments
when the sky is all gray and it looks like it used to look in October.
It’s cold in the kitchen, even the wood is chilly from the beaten-down air conditioner.
I’m drinking cocoa like I used to, writing like I used to,
sitting with one foot propped up on the kitchen table,
the other swirling the air, dangling.

My one and only love is asleep in our bed,
looking sweet as a child wearing someone else’s fancy mustache.
Most days of the week, this is what “we” look like.
I feel like a wooden plank
paint chipping off, a few nail holes, used to patch walls or create bridges, make a space on the floor where it’s sturdy enough to stand.

Still making noise when underfoot.

But I can always turn on the music I was listening to in October and dream myself backward and forward
Back to the beginning and forward to when the hardest months are over.


The list of things
I would not do
in order to be wrapped
in one of my father’s chamois shirts
right now
Well, it’s infinitely shorter
than the list of things
I would do.
Just this morning.

King Street

When your cigarette heart

Starts to burn your ivory bones

Hold my kisses to the place that’s charred

Someday soon I’ll heal you home


For My Dearest, Darling,
Concrete Canyon-Conquering Comrades

There is an endangered species soon to be completely extinct in the Big Apple.
On the rare occasion that a specimen is sighted, it fills the heart with joy. Relief soaks the soul and the moment is seized.
Once in a great while, one will appear across the room.
“Surely, this is a miracle/joke/blessing/opportunity,” a witness might think.
In a split second, in a moment of hesitation while pausing to process its presence, you can miss it altogether.
It has a habit of disappearing before your eyes.</p>
Personally, I’ve only seen one in the past week, and it was beautiful. It took my breath away and I am proud..
To say that I did not waste my chance with it.

I plunked my rear end right on top of it, took it by storm. I smothered the damn thing and have absolutely no regrets about doing so to that nearly non-existent creature.
The empty chair at Starbucks.


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