Last Call

Resting on the pavement –
A cigarette and enough time
to look at a star up high,
the brightest;
a radiant fireball dripping splendor,
an omen.

Perhaps I should go into this bar…
This binge started at some other bar, I’m sure.

I’m spinning on the bar stool, nauseous,
looking around.

Two wine glasses dreaming of eternity;
a couple of tequila shots living carpe diem;
twin beer pints promising never to tell;
and, amid the racket, my tears.

The star’s a pale complexion with vivacious features,
with pronounced charms and grace,
and with a stare,
a stare that could divert Cupid’s arrow
anywhere…

She gets up – supple waist –
And comes my way.
A swarm of pelicans take flight inside of me.
She stands before me.
Venus holds my hand,
opens her mouth…
Nothing comes out and I understand it all.

A Syllable In Time

Words were first made to express not to communicate,
Stories, lies and excuses came later…
But there are commas in life
When words are transparent and mute;
You urge me to put all thoughts,
The echoes of rivers,
The glare of snow,
The distance of the sky,
The last drop of rain,
The weight of your heart,
The weightlessness of your heart,
The depth of the eyes,
The colors of smiles,
The waves of hair,
The last breath before the first kiss,
And the cemetery of cigarettes when I think of you
All in one sentence, one word, one letter, one note,
In one gesture
It goes down and on
until there is no sense
Only silence…

When I look at you, and you smile,
Then ask me to talk,
Perhaps that’s trying to describe that moment…
That speck of time
That I want to stretch and tear
And make it into a puzzle
And put it back together
With you
Again & again…