Discounted Poetry

"I need a lover. Humans cannot tickle well themselves, And my arms don't reach The itchy parts across my back. My conversation proves impoverished With only my own husky voice." I ask about romance and love. She smiles at me gently, Suddenly aware of how naïve I am. - 6/29/26

America was passing by, A ball cap covering thin hair And ugly dull tattoos About his arms. The son was jacked And only ate the freshest bucks. He cooked with fire, Not like the weakling women he despised Except when he demanded fucking. But o, mother could have been My botox baby, Her blonde sorority cascades Unfurling down her sculpted back, Her chest enhanced beyond all movement, Eyes like gothic paintings Following everybody everywhere. Ain't no doubt, God bless the USA. - 6/26/26

She pulls back his promise He would make their daughter's dance recital And the way he's always late with the support And wraps a rubber band around. She throws his joke about her weight Into the back Beside the car seat. She quickly covers every crease Of evidence Of every affair he thought he hid And finishes with lipstick Bold enough to cover everything. She's never ready for the day But yet again She always is. - 6/25/26

You fling the starfish Oceanward, Not knowing story, Ending, Wish, Conclusion In the air As long as gnarled arms Pinwheel to waves. Your face is water tides. You hide behind your liquid beauty, Leaving only blurs in space, My chest above the ground A second, Glory and agony.  - 6/24/26

I never heard your answer, Your jean pockets stuffed With jolly ranchers, My handwriting, Me. The car backfired As your parents drove away. I fell beneath the blast. - 6/23/26

You toss yourself On top. I breathe the soap And salt  Aside your neck. You hold me down And kiss, The sun reflecting In colors off your eyes, Kaleidoscope. I drown. - 6/22/26

We sigh in steam Our gears so misaligned The sprockets break like teeth Against each other. Bloody hands Against the smoking wood. We blow. We pile leaves. The fire isn't there. - 6/18/26

She hit me with the beach ball. I satisfied, The best laid plans I made Pool side, The sweating bowl And slick carafe. She laughed. Her glass of lemonade, I let it fall. - 6/17/26

We both are lost somewhere inside The sweaty sizzle of the Thai food In a restaurant so hot and steamy I can nearly read the menu off your forehead. I have lately realized that even iron stomachs Do at times regret Certain delicious spicy peppers. I can tell this moment It is firing throughout your thoughts, And yet I know I can't start it with you. We're friends enough I'm well aware you never see a romance through, But dancing round colliding eyes, You talk between bites of noodles and shrimp Of Doctorow and Rich. I squint and see you In the front seat Riding slow to airports, beaches, Bedsides inside countries I can barely say. I often heed these warnings Like the tiny writing Telling me I shouldn't eat  The cookie dough Still raw, But over bowls of kway teow pad thai, I know exciting nights Would end with me Enjoying rice alone, Kincaid and Richard Price and Irving Tragically unanalyzed. - 6/16/26

I cannot understand. I read instructions, Put the pegs into their proper holes. You're blind to Stacks of pancakes crying syrup. You don't hear The diner seat I'm sticking to Or smell the heaviness of frying sausages. You know What I won't steal from you. Is that the reason Your feet are pendulums below the knees, Your smile Tastes of rotten grease? - 6/15/26

My first extended stay Inside a hospital Was with my wife, Wherever she is now, I on the filthy tile In the bathroom stall And staring through the ceiling, Begging god with tears I never have She'd be on the better side Of the fifty-fifty chance The surgeon grimly told me of. We spent a Christmas there, Thanksgiving, Changing of the calendar. I've not seen her in twenty years. My second wife A couple months after our divorce Visited me on my second stay. I'd shaved my head, Remembering the lessons Of my former partner. They had stopped my heart for hours, Like she did the night we met. Recovery was perfect, Painful. I've a lengthy scar that fades with every season. I haven't seen her in a decade. I haven't stayed inside a hospital since. - 6/12/26

She perfected her disorder In ballet. She suffered, then she loved The classes, Ordered and exact, As long as she remembered. Now, her skinny frame Is shaking like a slender willow In a tempest Here inside the heated coffee house In mid-November. She is pulling her enormous creamy scarf To wrap her pretty, pale, uncovered shoulders. "I am quitting smoking," She apologizes, Hands as skittish As a Coltrane solo. I cannot ignore The echoes of anxiety Like watching children playing near the edges Of the roof too high above The city street. The ambers set above Her rolling cheeks Still glisten mellow As they float in currents, Choppy streams of rushing thought. She asks if I frequent this place And just how long I've used the app. Her beautiful brown eyes are quicky caught, Capsizing under trickling waters. "Sorry.  I'm sorry," Napkin to her eggshell face, Flat shoes the softest scurry Out the ringing door. - 6/11/26

It won't be long, She said again. I've felt a fever Rise, subside. It never seems So strong Now. Dry mouth Bleary eyes, I search the brutal mists Of dust Engulfing the horizon, The bush Which burns And burns, Though mute For years. - 6/10/26

I am gravity. I can't be bothered Every time a comet Blasts into my surface, Finds itself In sudden orbit, Doomed to end in fire In my atmosphere. I once wore guilt. That's far too heavy. I am only breathing, Being, Bending space and time By mass and energy, Attracting everything to me. Do people throw up rocks And curse? Do they expect apologies From the burning sun? - 6/9/26

You can smell The pebbles Hot beneath the lonely sun. The cathedral Proud and pointing up, Converted gold untold To mortar, stones, Artistic glory, Awing and reminding vulgar villagers Of divinity intruding on finite reality, Eternity. I want to round the corner On the gravel boulevard And find you standing Like a sacred church Beneath the open sky. - 6/8/26

I am bent. I'm watching sweatstreams Drop to darken dirt below in blotches. I am spent, And yet a never-ending waterfall. You are the puzzle I'm afraid I haven't gotten Time enough to solve. I see you take it black These days, Abandoning your snowy sugar sands. Your daring lipstick Is a lethal thrust Or bloodied shield for sheltering. Exhausted, I am dreaming of starfish, Blueberries ordinarily available, Soft patches of silver, aquamarine, And mother of pearl, Your slightly wicked smile Holding all the sprawling city, Maybe every inch of the world, Your uncovered shoulders on my pillow, Underwater eyes. My every thirst would quench And all my questions put to rest If not for your ambivalent attention. - 6/5/26

You landed Lifted, A lunar rocket in reverse. Venice is a world away. - 6/4/26

You carry wind across the border. Soldiers shoulder rifles, Eyeing you with threatened faces Threatening. You never meant to end up here Against the wall Awaiting passage and permission. You took such pride in proving self-reliant. You chopped your hair defiant. You left your home to find it Dragging in the dirt behind you Everywhere you go. I see you through the strip of chain-link Staring open as a hungry hand, As the finales of forbidden affairs, As a complicated question of theology, But your betrayal laid me down On the dusty ground for years. Although I still can feel your breath Against my cracked and blistered lips, I've nothing left for you. - 6/3/26

Perhaps the humid sky's Too heavy. You are never there, The ending of the yarn You've strung throughout the trees Is simply tied onto a barren branch. I'm seldom tired. I am yawning Not from weariness, Well, mostly not, But boredom. The pressing air, Quicksilver lover, Older man In search of the end Of searching, Traveling on, - 6/2/26

That stare Rejuvenates the dead and gone. Your smile Slays us all. The angel visited me early. She only speaks in warnings, Never blessings. Our highway's buckled and uncertain. You've got to toss down more Than penny antes When there's blood  In the middle Of the table, When lines relax to fuzzy smears Throughout the room, When all the colors fail to grey, When all you are Is taken, broke. I think I know a way around, A path directly to the middle Where the fire blazes  Yet does not consume. I can take you over, But you've got to make it halfway To my vehicle yourself. - 6/1/26