The City that Never Sleeps

Your neighbor blasts his base and

the insistent thumping confuses your dreams.

That person across the alley sings opera

that should be beautiful,

but instead sounds like that Halloween decoration

that scared the shit out of your little sister in 1995.

The Coca-Cola delivery truck rolls by at 4 AM

and blasts its horn,

but is the driver really at fault?  

You know he would rather be sleeping.

It’s the screaming sober man,

the stumbling, wasted woman screeching,

and the haunting witch opera mixed with the base

that sing, ever so loudly,

“Welcome to the city that never sleeps.”

Magic

If I were magic,

I’d take you to a field of stars,

strip off all of my clothes,

and dance naked for you.

(I think you’d like that.)

You would look at me with that crooked smile,

(the one that means you don’t necessarily understand

why I am dancing naked in a field,)

before you join me.

The sweat of our love would turn the grass into silk,

and butterflies would land on your shoulder blades

to watch the fireflies wink.

For Tayleigh Ann

Sweet little girl,

tell the Moon, “Goodnight,”

as it shines just for you

while your mom holds you tight.

Say goodnight to the air,

it’ll rock you to sleep

in the boughs of the branches

whose secrets you’ll keep.

Say goodnight to the stars

they are falling for you

brightly dancing a dance

to make dreams come true.

My sweet little girl,

tell the world, “Goodnight,”

as it cradles you softly

while your mom holds you tight.

Sliding Gently

We will now exist in a soundless space, 

our feet will glide across the frozen earth,

as we pass through moments once there, now lost –

of touching lips, slipping fingers

finding buttons, finding breasts,

finding v L e o,           

letters of a nothing word

that can mean so very much –

We will not go there, not anymore.

My thoughts echo in the silence

where our words once existed.

They threaten to spill, to overflow

into this void that fills with the

glittering memories of crystallized

failures sliding gently into nothing.

Release

I breathe and my eyes disappear

before my toes follow suit

then my knees

my belly button

my breasts.

I become

a whole

dissolved

into

minute

possibilities

that swirl

to form

maybes

and the

occasional

perhaps.

The Underwear Party

A single pink rose stands out

among gerbera daisies,

teasing the vegan chocolate cake,

and competing with the white zinfandel,

watching the talking women:

A nervous woman enters wearing leopard tights

that hug her legs like an intimate friend,

daring her to change her identity.

A round woman dons navy blue lingerie

and a purple sweater that gently

caresses her luxurious shoulders.

Black lace teases the tops of a daring lady’s thighs,

as she revels in the illicit feeling

of wearing almost nothing.

A confused woman sports boxers

that serve as a reminder of

a first-name only night before.

They dip banana slices and

pieces of strawberry

in warm chocolate

that falls in loving drips

onto their fingers.           

Sugary mulled sangria,

or a cup of pink champagne

bubbles happily in the hands of

these smiling women.

The heat is cranked up

and they lounge on

a pink pillow, an orange couch,

a feetless purple armoire –

Sheets of purple fabric

with a very subtle flower pattern

pose as curtains

and wink at the pink rose

as she silently watches

and revels in her own nudity.

The Error of My Ways

I met the Error of My Ways

on a path to Nowhere.
He was quite congenial.
He laughed at me for taking a left
when the sign to Nowhere 
clearly pointed right.

"But I took the road
less traveled by."
Error just smiled at me
and said that's what every traveler
thinks on their way to Nowhere,
but there are only so many
less traveled roads,
and eventually
we all end up in the same place.