I turn her
hand away
from grasping
an under-
standing
of me.
but her smile
cleaves
a corner
scar
that by silence
swallows me.
and her thigh.
especially her breast
listening
to the sound
that escapes
some-
where
I know I feel.
Category Archives: words
for emily
“life is nothing..”
nothing but conclusions,
conclusive to the doors we open
and what we’ve reached
at the foot of the stairs, some mystery
that is our own
because we own it, and yet
we owe it something: a smile, a decision, perhaps
a beginning, a beginning to put our hand on the handle,
poised in front of the door frame
framing our thoughts, our mind set,
set to do something in this life, maybe to this life,
turn it upside down, if we can,
or maybe (actually) right side up,
even if it means turning our guts inside out,
out of the room we’re in
and into this time,
the time ahead of this, of us.
because we know we choose our fate
and because we know
we chose this door
ahead of us, with our hands on the handle,
we take a deep breath
and turn the knob,
open the door,
and step forward.
and in so many words..
i would
i’d said so,
and in so saying
she brought it up
to my attention
that i would be doing so
because i had said
i’d pay
especially now
when i was saying that
i had been
planning
on saving for it, and her
attention
had been worth saying
something
and saving for
a raining day
when i had said, i had not
planned ahead
just close enough
to touch her
and in so saying,
brought myself
to this,
and she pointed out
all i had said
and i was
in not so many words
bound to her
even
ever after
the fact that her smile
had not been worth saving.
that time
Didn’t you say didn’t you say that I would or that you would that one of us would and I said right back to you that both of us would meaning that we were both doing it at the same time and it wasn’t just didn’t you just say that me or you and I said right back to you that it didn’t matter which of us because we both didn’t you just why didn’t you say what I said or least think it out loud because I wasn’t thinking about it when I had said it just kind of fell out of my mouth like words like didn’t you just say something to the effect that it was only me or only you and it wasn’t both of us’
And I’m supposed to like it didn’t make a difference like it could be turned around into not making a difference like I didn’t know there was a I’m supposed to turn it all around to before it would make a difference like it never happened to right back inside out and maybe flip it over you thought it was that simple like I’m supposed to just walk away you thought it was that simple to think I could just walk away with everything having been turned inside out and forget it I was supposed to turn it inside out turn my guts inside out like it never I was supposed to believe you were saying this shit to me like you were giving instructions like you had other people do this before turning my guts inside out like it didn’t make a difference to run it all around like it might have been easy for you like I’m not supposed to think that you did this all the time.
It couldn’t have it couldn’t have been that time when it couldn’t have been that time when we had said something about it and we had nothing else to it couldn’t have been that of all things it couldn’t have been that time when we had started talking about it and we just kind of lost steam with it and we were left with this big silence with the lake in the park in front of us it couldn’t have it could have been then when we were by it but not when we were sitting on the bench in front of it could have been later on when we left things like that it couldn’t have been when we had nothing to say after what we said, could it’
You asked if there was a difference between you and me other than the obvious when we made love and I said that I didn’t think there were any and you didn’t seem too happy with it and I kind of fell over myself and I tried to look for something else to say to at least move it from this point and I couldn’t understand what I had done wrong even though you said you were perfectly content with what I had said but I thought you didn’t think that and maybe that I shouldn’t have answered maybe you weren’t really asking me a question maybe all along you had wanted to say something on your own and I cut you off with something so promising and fanciful and silly and heart breaking that you were sad and you didn’t want to break my heart with what you really wanted to say of the differences between you and I and so you fell quiet and I fell over myself and sat across from the lake in the park in the silence and I finally thought quietly to myself not now too soon not this now so soon.
finality
to breathe the breath that will be the last.
how complex the grammar of it:
-inhale,
holding between the thought
&
throat.
(to relish as if wine aged by years two feet have stood)
flicker that everything,
?matters, has mattered, will no longer matter, past mattering,?
to an extent.
the lingering of everything was enough by never being, “enough,
but,
it happened.?
(many much more of this and that than this)
probably holding for a minute more, then,
surely, frustrated, desperate, done-
-exhale.
mireya
our first night, i had confused myself
to the point where my dick couldn’t get hard,
like it was past warranty or i just came
in from a jog, shrunken and tight, bashful.
she said to me then: “..don’t confuse this with anyone else.
we’re the only two people in this room..”
because she knew it was turning into something
at such a speed that it looked blurry and i couldn’t recognize the details,
only the sound of it, and when i had tuned in
she was already leaving.
i had left it at that, a ‘nothing i can do’,
still loving the way she hung her smile
until, a week later, she had shown up at my door leaving
not herself but a thing, a thank you
for what i was burying amongst others.
she was convinced: i had a hang up and she didn’t
want to hurt anyone.
but a few weeks later in a bar, she was dancing and i had to say hello.
despite the honorable thing i did by turning my back on her right after,
she hugged me twice, like it meant something,
like it was easy for me to feel her body, slowly sticking her tongue in my mouth,
but she could tell i wanted her more often than that
and so, for her, that was the end of it.
…but here she was now, i’d bumped into her again, talking about how nice my lips were,
saying, “..i’m not bullshitting you, it’s what i’m really thinking. this is me,
this is mireya.”
(like it could start spinning again.)
so i kept my eye away from her by talking
to her friend because her friend more or less didn’t give a shit
and that’s what makes it easier to stand
on this side of every inch that she keeps between us.
kernel
Well, we didn?t have much to begin with, a couple of old kernels that we had roasted. They were so precious there on the tarmac as we were leaving coney island. Samantha had said how she always dreamed of corn kernels on the boardwalk, so finding them where we did threw her off: she didn?t know what to think. Maybe I?m psychic, she?d say, jigglin? the kernels in her cupped hand. Poppa said, Stop foolin? around with them, first decent meal we?ve had and you go playin? them like they Mexican beans… momma said, You wish, and then she wouldn?t say much else after that. It?s one of the last things I remember her sayin?. The very last thing was, Well, never now, and that was it. It?s hard visitin? her at the nursin? home that she?s in now. Samantha hasn?t been there at all. Aggravates my ulcers, she once told me.
Well anyway, I?m gettin? off the point. I have a habit of doin? that, which was no good for school, bein? that we kept movin? around, I was never around a school long enough to know what attention meant. A teacher once said to me, Pay attention Marcus, and I?d turn all red as the other kids stared. We?re so cruel as kids, so full of ourselves and what we are, and I?d say, But I got no money Miss. The class would break out laughin?, I was real popular then, everyone thought I was crackin? jokes when I really just didn?t know what was goin? on half the time. Today, they call it attention deficiency disorder, my poppa called it, Plain old stupidity. But, I?m doin? it again, veerin? off, not that I have much to say, somethin? in me just remembers that day so clear, like the beach back then, before everyone forgot their manners.
On Saturdays, I keep thinkin? it was Saturdays because everybody talks to me about those great Saturday matinees, but I don?t think we ever went to the movies on Saturdays just because everybody else went on that day. Meanin? that it was more expensive than on other days, so probably me and Samantha went on Tuesday. I remember the streets bein? empty, and we wouldn?t want to leave the movie house, it?d be dark, so we?d run home, laughin? and terrified, holdin? onto each other?s arms, like we were in a potato sack race, our breaths as sweet as candy. We?d go and see somethin?, none of it I remember, even when I visit my sister, she?d say, Hey, there?s one of those movies we saw as kids on t.v., you always had a knack for timing. We?d look at the b&w set that her husband made such a big fuss about, and she?d ask me if I remembered this scene or that, I just sat there and nodded my head. Even when I had somethin? to say, I usually kept it in my mouth, stayed nice and warm there. so when I?d just nod my head, Samantha thought I was just bein? my usual self when I didn?t have a clue as to what I was watchin?.
It?s good not lettin? on what you know and don?t know, people tend to treat you nicer, I don?t care if they think I?m slow. It?s better that way, even if it was hard when I was growin? up, my sister had to hold my hand when we crossed the street up until I was thirteen. But it wasn?t because I was clumsy, don?t believe what they tell you, and I know what they say. The truth is that I just liked the feel of her hand tuggin? on mine, this soft thing around these paws, gentle but firm, as they?d say, gentle but firm. I think of those days, of runnin? home, of crossin? streets, of sharin? a bag of popcorn that we soaked to the top with so much butter that the sides of our clothes were stained with our hands wipin? it all off, and her starin? at the movie screen and me starin? at her.. Think of those days, her all goldilocks, and I stare out the window until my eyes fill with tears. I know what you?re thinkin? and it was never like that, even if it crossed my mind, like all of those stupid things that cross a boy?s mind does, but no. I just loved my sister a whole great deal that it was terrible.
But it was on that day, the day we found those hard roasted kernels that I remember the best, that I keep rememberin?, nothin? much comes after that. Hard to say it was when I was fifteen that we all went our separate ways, but we did. Me and Samantha had really disappeared into our little world for good, and poppa kinda just sat there doin? everythin? he could not to look at momma. I figure it was hard for him, he hadn?t worked out the best for her, Not quite the catch, he?d say and it?s hard not to look at someone when you?re around home all day, wherever home was. It always turned out to be someplace small, it was no surprise that we were usually climbin? over one another every mornin?.
What you need an alarm clock for? He?d ask Samantha the one time he felt we should stop movin? about and Sam was gettin? settled in school. I need it to wake up on time, I get no sleep with you all snoring to high hell. Poppa turned and pointed his finger at her, all rough like cement, watch yer mouth girl. Sam would point her finger at him, heavy with his drawl, sarcasm they call it, no, you watch dem smelly feet, stompin? all over us every mornin?, and they had this kinda standoff, and it hit poppa like a great idea. He?d started laughin?, Samantha still holdin? her ground, and then he?d nod his head, there?s yer alarm clock, I got em right here for ya, first thing. All through high school, right on the dot, poppa had his feet in her face, and every mornin? Samantha jumped up earlier and earlier to avoid them.
bathroom tile
I had the strangest dream and woke from it up many times. Everytime I went back to sleep, I fell back into this dream, right where I left it off. We were living together, in the basement of this huge apartment building in the city. Across from us was another apartment where two older men lived. Our bathroom had no door and neither did the apartment, our shower faced this other apartment.
A t.v. was on.
We were taking a shower. No.
I was taking a shower, you were taking a bath, we had a separate bathtub. You had gotten up in the tub, standing in a bubble bath, suds all over you. I got out of the shower to wipe away the soap on your skin.
Just then, one of the men from the apartment across was going out and stopped in to say ‘hello’. He looked at you naked and his eyes travelled the length of your body. He then said ‘goodbye’, and left.
I whisper in your ear, I just want you to be happy.
You were very quiet.
Somehow I was already dressed and I left.
I came back and the man from next door was in our apartment, with you, with his clothes on and your skin was still wet. He was hugging you from behind and your head was tilted back, your arm reaching back, fingers in his hair. All I could hear was your breathing, deep.
I didn’t say anything. I stood and breathed.
I closed my eyes and breathed again.
I opened them.
You were standing before me, close, smiling, refreshed, like nothing happened. You hugged me, chin up, eyes bright. Empty. I felt empty, not upset, not angry, not quiet, silent even in my breathing. Empty and tired and tired of being silent and empty.
I didn’t sleep afterwards.
the truth of the matter
she treated me as if she webbed her fingers in my chest
as i was breathing because of her hand.
i had said, “You do not understand: it TAKES.”
once i had to stay on the words
they were wrapped around and between us
like s(k)ewers.
but i tenaciously b(r)ought myself
to consider the impression:
that’d she’d fuck me, just to make sure (and not ‘love’)
i’d stick around:
an insurance policy, a contract.
a certain kind of bitterly. like a gun, or a noose,
and a skill.
i stood then on the edge of some greater importance
for i didn’t want her and her misunderstanding: it was walking.
but she cried
and said, “you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
maybe that’s why, no body listens.
the land
I have crushed the breath of spring
with selfishness cruel
blind to the river that flooded
taking away whatever life remained
and the grass withered.
I have thrown out ashes
that have never burned
onto the land that I wanted to grow
taking away the nuture of the sun
thinking that the destruction would pass.
I have cleared away trees
without planting another seed
letting the soil hunger
ash falling between the pores
and I wondered why only dust flew.
I have realized the death of spring
as smoke fills the sky
what have I left for others to follow
but rust and tears born too late.