To Swim the Treeline

There was a time in late August
where the wind moving through
the trees sounded like the ocean
and love was enough. That time

does not exist for us now. Like
pre-teen television actors, we
would dream of a future life:
To be kissed on a picnic table,

while our friends went swimming.
To be only honest. Only truthful.
Cast the liars to the chlorine and
let them twist and flail. To sink

was an unacceptable compromise.
Where did we go wrong? Why
can't I lay in the tall, tall grass
and think of only golden things?

It is so easy to fall,
but never backwards.

3 Year Daydream

Take a walk to the back garden,
to find me sitting at the table.

Smoking and drinking wine, we
can talk about the weather

and how we rather like the rain.
I can read aloud some lines

of flowery prose, and you can
touch my arm like you did

when you loved me. Before the death
of hope, when I'd fall asleep

on a long drive home and wake
to find you humming along

with a song on the radio, rain
as percussion. And we could remain

that way forever, even if
the word now means "a day".

Saturday in Newport, 2 am

Free glances of artfully
formed peaks, bronzed
flesh under eyeless skies.

Under dull red waters
she says: Get your fill now,
'cos I won't be here in

the morning. Broken shells
made a cut on my foot and when
I find the slit, shoeless, I brush it

with a finger and think of you.
First meetings with remarkable
impressions last a long walk

down the boulevard. Oh! my
Indiana cornhusker, my midwestern
belle, how you've entranced

me. From routine to rapture,
violent change like Northeastern
weather patterns. You've blown

me away, away. And it feels
like it's great to exist at this
point in time. A portrait of

two nudes off the Newport
coast, strutting and preening,
The most beautiful birds of color.

A Little Fucking Revolution (Title Stolen from John Gillooly)

We speak of change, but what do we know
on the subject? Weight, sure. The style's
grown and kindness was left behind
some time ago. I headed south

with every intention of hiding out

down there. Blood's too thick
for such heat, skin's too thin
for my home. A self-made
family is a lucky one --

we all wish we could bed each other.

And where's the sin in that?
With a new hat, I look five
years younger -- subterfuge is
what the present is not.

We should all change our dress

every now and again. To keep
the new Us, even if the fanboys
disagree. If DC can do it, why can't we?
Trade capes for blue jeans,

sleek unitards for kneepads. A little

less compromise would be a cold
drink, refreshing like a first kiss
under a rain-soaked picnic table.
We have ideas of how we should be,

so, when were we bought? Try

to remember the time less tangible.
Things were things and we did
what we wanted. Betrayal is an ugly
act, especially when self-inflicted.

We need to get out of this town,

with or without the spectres
we love. It's a crippling thought
when we realize: they don't need us
as much as we think

we need them.

1336 TPA to PVD

How hopeless it is to watch
the sun rise when you've
no place to go
but home.