Archive for June, 2010

i had a house
and a job
and i could take a punch.

thought it was enough
until it occurred
a rose in snow, the
blood on the floor
and i knew
he might not kill me
but i couldn’t take the
chance.

now i’ve got a job
minimum, yeah, and
i drink a lot of it.

the apartment’s small
but it’s mine
and the man
i moved in with
is off the lease.
which means
i threw the lifejacket
away. but i don’t
drown.
much.

at night
when i wake
in a cold sweat
wondering
if i waxed the kitchen
floor good enough
or if he was going
to be in a mood
coming home
i see the nightlight

la Virgin in her blue robe
smiling.

and it only
takes a shot or two
to get back to sleep.

yeah, it’s better.
the most i can expect.

there’s no love song
like the boy
who opens your car door.

who stands when you enter the room.

the boy who puts a warm hand
to the small of your back
as you go through
the revolving door.

that’s the boy who says
whatever happens
whatever it takes
i’m there
i’m yours
and we’re in it
together.

it’s a simple thing
but that’s a boy
i could let in.

forget the love songs,
babe, let them
blow by
like the empty wind
they are.

there’s no love song
like the boy
who lights your smoke
because he’s
just
that
way.

the boys gather
around the car
that holy of holies.

the tobacco smoke rises, an
offering; they nod
along with the liturgy;

it’s a bang bang thud thud
speakers shivering glass.
you can feel the bass
against your heart
right where religion
is supposed to press.

i watch from my balcony
as a joint makes the rounds
this my body, my blood,
they pass cervezas
and speak in weird semaphore
through the waves of thump rattle boom.

they look so young
and every warm night
they’re out there
as faithful as
the grannies
who hobble to mass
three times a week
in their black
and swollen shoes.

rained like
we were going to
get a boat
and go two by
two

and i started
thinking:

who would i
go with?

screw it.

i’ll stay here.

i’d rather drown
lonely
than see
you again.