Discounted Poetry

My friends all say To toss it off the bridge. My closest mate pulls me aside, Admits I'm being a fool. My therapist dictates A cooling psychic shower. Wash the last few months Away.  Forget. I burnt some pictures To reclaim my power, Manifested moving on To other states And casting wider nets Into the stagnant dating pool. I yank the tablecloth, Restart the phone. Selected all Received and sent And hit delete, And still My chest Is deeply Breathing Your lingering Scent. - 8/18/25

Her body tremors, Shoreline after the tsunami Batters and retreats. The sun's a general. The moon's a specialist, Although in what She will not tell. The world is lemon stripes Ejected through the blinds, A treasure gold That glows across her alabaster White, Streetlight or noon. Her beaded belly inflates And settles, A retreating tide, Balloon ascended high Returning, Depleting intoxicating helium Behind. - 8/15/25

We ran the reds. The clouds still trampled over us. We're underneath The hum, The crackling noontide tune. We stay away, Although we know The day is coming soon. Free samples cost too much. You know much better Than to skim Your eyes across my arms. We're not that fast. I hear alarms behind us Even now. Your fragrant face Is touching far too near. Your lips are grasping Over mine. - 8/14/25

Fourteen days. Blueberry bushes Tempt through Waves of sparkling Wind. Some vices Thrill much stronger In anticipation. I have tasted these Dew-dripping bulging moons And know they burst With flavor greater Than excitement While waiting. Your handwritten Letter Swears you Will return Soon So soon. - 8/13/25

You bake my chest Against your fevered back. My arms surround you, Fingers bowed in worship Around your radiating navel. Your skin is heavy cream And melted butter Nearly at a simmer. Your cough awakes me. I yawn aroused Into your lower neck And snack upon your shoulder And drowse again, Unsure if you’re the world at dawn Or you’re the dream.   - 2/3/24 (I’m home sick today, so you’re getting an older one about being with somebody sick…) 

Red is seeping over the city's corpse. Somebody slashed the throat of the sky again, Despising the beauty of the stars. I really need to buy some heavy curtains. I am holding my pillow Like I have the last few weeks. It doesn't touch me back Or sigh good morning, Dead before the dawn awoke me, Once it no longer wore your eyes. The early tide of highway cars Engulfed and bore you Lifeless to the ocean deeps. - 8/11/25