Tuesday, June 18, 2013

on being five

perched on the stoop,
in his ketchup-stained
batman suit
she shooed him out,
when that man pulled up
in his rusted-red toyoto
pick-up truck

counted ants, and
gingerly placed ritz cracker
crumbs in their path

wiped his nose
with the back of his hand,
lodged tiny missiles
at the cigarette-stuffed
dr. pepper can

stared hard
into the blood-stained sun,
and when it started to fade,
he closed his eyes

to the sounds
those sounds

from inside.

she was supposed to teach him how to tie his shoes today.

Wednesday, June 5, 2013

seeing you

fingertips,
wearied, worn
smoke-thick nights
vaguely familiar chords
 
like memories,
your whisky-laced memoir
rips through me
like you aren't
the stranger
you are
 
but when,
the gritty strains
of dawn
coax
the ashen shadows
from the wall,
 
i can almost see you then,
 
i can almost see it all

Monday, June 3, 2013

it reminds me

the color yellow,
it reminds me
of the mustard stain
on that old ranger’s shirt
(it eventually became mine)
that time
you caught a foul ball,
cheeks rosy and chaffed
from the wind
 
we snuck out,
giggling, like teenagers
on a first date
while Bibby was pitching,
to that drafty old ford
that was always out of gas
made it back inside
for the last inning
pretended not to notice
that couple who stared
(a few buttons were missing) 

when it’s almost raining,
but not quite
just a slow trickle,
gaining momentum,
it reminds me
of early mornings,
and your broken coffee pot,
how it would sputter
the grounds would float,
dark, like ants,
when you added cream
and i would turn up my nose,
and drink it black

i would sit in front of your stove
because the heater was broken
and read
while you worked intently
at your math

caught you staring
through the doorway,
once

i remember how you laughed
and laughed

(and laughed)

Sunday, June 2, 2013

silence is golden



porch whispers
at three in the morning
citronella candle smoke
burns sweetly in my nose
humid nights
and the sound of silence in the air
the reason i can't find the words
isn't because they aren't there
it's just they sometimes get frozen
by the intensity of your stare

the air around you is familiar now