on the fold-out sofa we sleep like pears.
i ripe planet bruise & you arcana like
a real wizard. what will we do 
with all this future? 
tangled in each other's knees i tell you
i'm going to walk over the next mountain
& never come back. i had a dream 
everyone was indifferent to my mouth.
i won't ever beg to be kissed but
so much of me wants him to press me.
i ignore the jupiter of this whole situation.
where is this all going? are we 
going to get married like real men?
in the new year i will hopefully
have fewer wasps in the walls of the house.
my bed might arrive complete 
with a love poem. once someone told me
a bed is only for planting 
a lemon tree. i halved my brothers
so they could be tenors. 
my daughter is a thief.
i was never good at teaching morals.
she sleeps on the floor of my life.
you tell me we're not going anywhere
& i have nothing to add so i transform
into a marble & roll under the sofa
where the rats watch Sports Center.
they are all yankees fans. tidbits of
jewels & gold. the rats have been hoarding.
or, maybe we've been hoarding our humanhood
from the rats. my knees have recently 
become plastic bottle caps i have to replace
every other day. useless body machine.
i need a good workout video to cure me.
will you kiss me then? will you tell me
i am a beautiful sycamore? 
a lemon falls down in between us in bed.
the sun oozes through the window.
i don't want to get up yet.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.