regretless

I fell in love with a lithuanian name
he was my best friend, he shared his xanax with me from time to time
I would have anxiety attacks in those days
we would dress up
in ponchos
and feathers
and we would play pool and ride bikes and drink mountains of old style and sing karaoke everyday
and we'd have sex in soapless showers
he would sing, wouldn't it be nice? by the beach boys
but he had a longdistance love
and we both knew our time was short

on his last day in town
I discovered bloody marys
they were $1 at the bridgeport sports bar.
we stayed there for hours, playing pool, drinking thousands of bloody marys
the bartender stopped charging us for them.
there was a thunderstorm that night
and I knew I was going to cry
so I took off my shoes and climbed into a tree outside the bar.
I sat up there for awhile, screaming with the wind
& it was so loud I couldn't hear my voice.
I couldn't wind my thoughts & goodbyes.
I watched the lightning all around me.
I waited until I was finished howling
before I came down
my knees were bloody from scraping up the bark.
I went into the bar and borrowed a pair of scissors.
I cut the button I'd had dangling from a string around my neck
and I gave it to him.
he knew I was going to give it to the next person I fell in love with.
he told me that he loved me, too.
I cried all night while we laid in bed together,
he took off this grubby tiedyed shirt that I'd given him
so I could blow my nose on it.
I found it a couple of days later, smashed between the bed and the wall

I saw him again, 5 years later

his band came to town

it was my 28th birthday.
we sat in someone's convertible in the parkinglot outside the bar
and we talked about how we loved each other
and how we were
and how we were.
I wonder if I'll ever see him again

18: sneezebush thornwort

After a time of sitting by, I feel a sneezewort rising, and there in the blue haze of morning the turkey of wild dancing by. And she moves, shakes, scattering feathers, inches towards the duck of wood. My dragon funnel erect, attentive; lubricants dripping the snowball bush. The hawk soars calmly, investigating the upgrowth of newborn kidney lichens. The birds weave and wind, creating a six-pointed star in the tall grass rippled with ring lichens. My ear perks, the sound of a snowdrop a little yonder. A pheasant warbles and the thornbush lichens shed their weapons. 

oregon

I am a bit, a lot. I am often, and it an obvious lightsource. This is somewhere before never been, at least records of, nonexistent. In a lush green, in an overcast still lit somehow. I remember many things before, and februaries before this. Because all of this. A chirp, a subtle stare from a dog on the floor. The run of water makes the bird cry. Dressed blue in tiny feathers. Just the little bell tinkle too as it quakes cage encased.

A sweet heart next, bodies warm in proximity. A twelve green stairway, slopes and peelings from ages gone. Bygone, gone by, the scent of a strong tea in me, the feeling of many, a breath through the nostrils and in the throat the right of which is sour, sore. Pour a rightside hot down with liquid to burn & scrape making soft clean health around. Health abound. Many little rosemary fronds for my forward, I know it.

orange cream mimosas

Just a silent winter I let about. The pretty shrinking nights capsize by a snow bout, fluff about a dark wind shorn the night gown down. It is for all the languages we speak. For all the feathers shred. The dark underlined paths, and the red fallow splits in snow-breaks. Hellow, tingling caller. Tingle thing collar.

nice in bed
knives in bed