Start This One in Bernie Sanders Voice
listen
let me be clear
I’m here to wipe the strawberry tuft of shaving cream off of your ear
that you missed while shaving
I kiss you on your soft cheek and I’m happy
I’m happy with a rough cheek too
I’m happy with you
wake you up from the floor where you’re sleeping when the light from the window
turns turquoise utah
to los angeles spark, pinon transparent in the canada dark, close as the spot in the sky
either plane or imploding star
the dust of a scar you never could face in a bottle on my desk
I’ve been saving
to pour like the ashes of you on my ocean dripping body, becoming a foal,
becoming Emily Carr’s macaque in the snow,
becoming the second daughters of Job,
as I fall again erratic
of my unknown boyhood, everything happening
as only it could
Probably I’m On Fire
I am the least difficult of men. all I want is hot chip and lie
all I want is a motorcycle and enough money for enough gas to get me through this
enough of a world, this enough life
coffee in the quiet morning, windless mind of a wild earth yearning, you reading in
the next room, vibing,
vibrating from the little bump of coke you do, saying “having a coke with you” and I say
“is better than” and you point to the narcan spray, always with the blood oranges
maybe gone bad. you make me feel so good. all I want is a head a-nap on my chest and
you’re napping in bed and I tiptoe through the apartment that’s fine,
making breakfast, doing laundry, waiting for my after shower body to dry, for you to
smell me like a flower. all I want is your fingers licked clean of the meal that I
made you wafted through my hair, in a motion as if to say
enough. take it away. this is too much. thank you, to kiss you like I’ve come home, it’s
thirty years, you say, we’ll always be that way, always loser thirty year olds, too
old for good fun, too young to hold on
like a sad but on fire Bruce Springsteen song
