Standing the Mast, Rocking the Boat, Being Hormonal

I reorganized my desk today. A few things have changed. Due to their lack of use, lube and condoms are now located in a filing cabinet behind the taxes, adjacent to old bills, police reports and anything else that I have no connection with. Should I seek their wonders through the clouds of dust from both, I’ll be pleasantly surprised by neither. Filing away my sexuality for the sake of success. Ah, look at me go. I set aside any photo reminding me of what I need to be reminded of. What might leave me soon, what just arrived, that has yet to arrive. I’ve disposed of the broken phones, whatever it was that propelling behind their various stages of demise and my desire to hang onto their keys. (whatcouldevercompelme. to go there) My clock is off my desk and at my bedside so that I merely have to split my sockets to continue the countdown.

I gave up my seat on the bus today. It wasn’t for you. But it could have been. Particularly if you were wearing heels. Irreverent , I stood, like a fish clocking 80 wetland bound. I will stare you into the distance of the bass-ridden goodbye as you should have put it together by now. Braeek.

Move Me Last

I’m pretty sure the guy in the room next to me slept with his waitress earlier this morning somewhere in whatever a Boudreaux looks like. I glanced through your blog today and got vain. At that moment a hair fell from my head reminding me not to. give a. fuck.

I have scraped the scorpion from the urn where my concession flows and silence bends you dangling in my cartesian as the one I should let get away. But I didn't.

I am neither nice, nor easy.
For some flame
I will be neither here nor there.
as I have come
to praise the woman
who can raise this man from
his grief of home with
the spirits of my bedside
fog inseparable from specter.

My first girlfriend is now engaged.
My best friend is now engaged.
I celebrate
pouring future games
into soil
composting potential
memory.
To new lives.

For the first time
in two years
I prayed.
--For you.
but for the benefit of me
never lead again.

I will be there in due time.

When I met you I did not stop to fathom the missing. I did not drink the dregs of the drink I would never order. I stopped myself from memorizing your eye color and from guessing your mother’s features from your father’s. I started the systematic erasure of anything that could potentially be everything.

Rock me, hard place

-49 Opposition Venus - Uranus

Negative aspect: A meeting that could be passing and highly disappointing in the end. The attraction is strong, but there is something inconstant in this partnership. It may be that the feelings run hot and cold, or that circumstances are such that their romantic feelings for one another are interrupted often.

Tonight I designed the final window locks for which to seal the year with you as the last one. The last one.

For now,

Jeffery

Matador Waving

You kept reminding me
of the rug that was counting
moons before you are pulled from beneath me,
through a trapdoor masking the fissures of lostlove
sympathetic smiling eyes
just as inevitably as 2 precedes 4.

From the moment we struck
I have always
tried to be the best man
in the race for dreams flagged and dispossessed,
fleeting against
naturally failing
competing flames that learned to
follow learned to scald me running to the bridges
we have laid between those charcoaled hours
of two and four.

But I was the one
with sweaty sheets.
still damp with snow and anxiousness
inside the wool stockings I had sewn the winter I
became unsure of the
apparition who began faceless
to slip between

the craning ceremonial folds of my heart
so easy as tonight burns today
light awakening me to traces of
what I will come to know
as half-succubus or something else profiling Roman divinity

I have grown unsure of intention and less sure
of my need to look anywhere but
into the eyes of the bull reflecting
a matador waving
my heart
worth it’s weight in silk
relying purely on a hunch to raise the cautious fire
before the oncoming could extinguish
the memory of the red lit
smoke rising from shredded tobacco
or finger hair or joined skin or desire
to tame something wild
that has yet to have been tamed

wax/wane

Nicotine in the morning makes me swagger and sway to the wax and wane in the heartbeat of the indigo skyline, because I am unsure of what we made in the nights before you were so convincing to me that after the same seasons in a row, you were not the same but now I know you will always be; a shadow I chased.

wishers

1.
Here
I am sheltered
by the ones who knew
the land before
the ones who came to
claim the land from the free
state where we are saved by
possibility of being one of the
failing heart wishers on the
ends of a pulley bone.

So here is a spell
to lay between us
to never be
on knees
confessing
just to fill a

void-

through this

.

we move

to meet center,

as animals
staring with eyes set
upon
there

2.
we'll wait out
to watch the conflicted
run bankrupt