for wanting ones

wanting something beautiful is easy. loving something beautiful is hard. seeing you in a hat or with long hair. it's long and the strands clump together with the end of the day. 

I've heard that I am beautiful. easy to want, that's hard to love. 

maybe if I really knew you it wouldn't be easy to love you. maybe I wouldn't love you. wanting your beauty is all & enough. I'd rather not know. 

but seeing me--calls me 'beautiful' and calls me 'i love you'. 
he isn't beauty, and he is easy to love. 

I wonder if I could love the beauty (of you) that wanting is easy

and I'd rather have paper flowers, it's too hard--loving the ones that wilt on the sill. 

and loving is too hard. wanting is easy. 

for N

I don't want to read

I want to lay in bed

and think about you

and he holds me tight

holds my hand

and I don't mind

untitled untitled

untitled is
vacant & waiting
scratching & biting
chatting & staring
flecks in resin

untitled can
chat & ignore
stand & hang
inhale & exhale
wait for awhile

untitled will
squint & scrunch
sigh & go
hear & say
forget something

untitled has
walked & looked
closed & locked
held too long 

pocket

I remember how you
held that glass of water
in your right hand
unfolding a bill from
the collection of cards & bits
folded & clipped, then
 stuck into a back pocket

a favorite feeling is that
the crispy dollar bill 
fold-&-shove
into a back pocket feel

for w

we all have a depth

puddle or pool

we all have a depth

sitting or swimming

we all have a depth

pennies tossed or lines sunk

we all have a depth

warm light, cool dim

seen or shadowed

neither best

we all have a depth.

maybe I am.

well, I am. sitting on bar stools, talking to strangers, drinking another glass when the last was enough. thinking I see you at the end of the bar, seeing you in my dreams. squinting an eye. locking keys in cars. blinking and half winking. waking up alone or next to someone I don't care to know. bullies and little guys. dark chocolate stars, white hot moons. writing that poem you thought was for you. writing this for you. touching my forehead, feeling the crust inside my nose. Driving my car. Laughing with my grandma, crying each day to make it complete. pushing a button, pushing buttons. Try and remember the past. memories, imagination.

untitled a

I can't drink that much caffeine without wanting a cigarette
I can't hear that (those) tune(s) without swallowing a throat-lump
I can't pass a twisted tree without thinking of that wandering fall afternoon
I can't think of you without wanting that day of heaven's clouds to be everyday
I can't smile without hoping--maybe you'll be its reason someday