PENSKE
...poverty is:
packing your life in a PENSKE
and heading south
opened the last of the 6 cards you left on my nightstand
months ago when the nights would frost
and the mornings smelled of rain and daisies
you wrote me a letter
-ok, really you just signed your name to the card
I, too, believe in plagiarism
I steal phrases from God to repeat
the first time, I next see you
85 and clear
storm clouds hover over me
knee deep in empty Dove and Pamper boxes
packing tape and bubble wrap
my eyes water
I refuse to believe
this has anything to do with you
more about setting my alarm for 6
to beat the elderly to my boxes at the grocer
I'm still in the jumping to the phone phase
almost broke my neck
trying to answer the calendar reminder
I keep the card close
I was gonna'
cross out your name
send it back with mine
show you how sentimental I am
inside is a CD of slow songs
I could've just hit record
through the Quiet Storm
fill up an entire spindle
my cue to send it
your first unprompted phone call
your gift collects star dust
it was part of my rental agreement
I have bleached your breath from my breasts
windexed your reflection from my retinas
steel wool your touch from my thighs
I love you
It's only cliche if it's overused
and I counted!
I only properly replied 214 times
to your 40,842 long stares and fingertips on my earlobes
I suppose my "dittoes" are why you are ghost
the artwork I wrapped
gingerly in some of my old clothes
you discarded by our bed
laid them between the mattresses
where you used to study my frame
and I drank in your strokes
I'm already jealous of your next girlfriend
afternoons are consumed
by fantasies - daymears
of you two sneaking in the movies
love taps
and uncontrollable snickering
completely missing the scenes
engaged in whispering
leaving mid-film
to make love through the afternoon
even if this hasn't happened yet
I'd rather
find reasons to loose sleep
other than
I didn't know how to respond to love
it isn't that simple
like when your friends ask how you're doing
know that "fine"
are two vertical razor lines before flat line
I'm not romanticizing suicide
I just don't know how to concur
30 years of separation anxiety and abandonment
I should: wish you well
but I'm not there yet
I should: hope you find happiness, even if it's not with me
but I'm not there yet
I should: pray you accomplish everything you made long term goals for
and stuck on your refrigerator
I can't help wondering
if my name has a line through it
talk about options:
strip or write
since both require nudity in front of an audience
I'll chose the later
or at least the highway to heaven
there's gotta be something better
than this free fall through hell
I keep the mirrors in my eyelids
to remind myself who I used to be
unrecognizable in the pictures of us
your letter in my pocket
panicked while unpacking
my roommate thought me out of shape
ignored the sweating and the shaking
inhale: this will be good for you, a fresh start new opportunities
exhale: give it time the pain will fade
inhale: ignore him- he'll come back to you
focus: he'll run into you looking beautiful and regret his decision
it's been 69 days
since you called with your closing statements
what a position to be in
I made a pillow out of your old t-shirt to sleep with
it's the only thing in my new apartment that smells like you
new paint on the walls
will never make you one of the forgotten
for those that say: It's better to have loved and lost
than to have never loved at all
you try it
