Tagged: word

the right words cost an

the right words cost an
arm and a leg – no one warns
you when you are just

starting out. it takes decades to
roll them out appropriately


i am waiting for

i am waiting for
you to say the word, so that
i can take you there –

underneath a rustling
canopy, a bamboo harvest

perhaps you protect

perhaps you protect
yourself from me a little,
when a handful of
words exchanged
can acquire life,
get out of bed
with a sigh, become
intimate with every corner
of the apartment, eat
the same meals you
eat, watch the same
Centurion Classics,
crawl into the hammocks
you hang between more
words planted by once
familiar authors, lay down
beside you at night,
try to control their
breathing in the dark,
on the chance that you
won’t swat them away

it’s true, i never

it’s true, i never
wrote about you,
in neither of the
simple nor elaborate
accordion space of
twelve years, not a
word in even the
most imperceptible
folds, it would seem
i am now making
up for lost time, like
a gypsy creature
tuning her la vie
en rose
on the bleecker street
station platform,
skirt swaying

in the beginning was

in the beginning was
the word, and the word
was stella, rapping so
gently at my
window with her icy
knuckles this morning –
despite forecasts
and city shutdowns
and a state of emergency
declaration and thousands
of plows deployed
across the boroughs,
and lining up outside
grocery stores under
a cool blue sky –
despite everything, still
leaning on her southern
charm, like a new art form

i wish that you would

i wish that you would
send word, perhaps allow a
kumquat to roll across

the table – between all that
silence, something tart and sweet

let us not forget

let us not forget
this feeling, even when we
have not quite
identified it – a gelatinous
persuasion of guilt
if you do and
guilt if you don’t –
stuck treading
words that have been
said, flutter kicking
into words that have
been left unsaid