Oh, rime con te, indovina cosa voglio fare?
Dì al mondo che ti amo,
come abbiamo sempre fatto!
perché modificare le parti migliori
è fantastico fin dall'inizio
tutto sull'amore e
sai che riguarda l'amore e io
Non mi dispiace dirlo al mondo intero
Ti amo
Non mi dispiace dire che ci tengo
Ciao
Ciao
Immagino di avertelo detto
hanno tagliato la parte migliore
non si sono nemmeno presi la briga di menzionare
il mio amore per te
trascorrere e dissolvenza
------------------------------
canzone oh canzone
cosa farò
dimmi; dimmi
canzone oh canzone
cosa farò
Hey, Sally
I watch our daughters Rebecca
and Rachel browse so like you did.
They scour the stacks in a Rich-
mond book store, trailing big reads
for when they return to their com-
portable places. Home again,
feet up, tea cups steeping.
I came home from afternoon
office hours and found you stretched
out on the couch we bought in
the second-best store in Snowtown
and brought to Washpa. Your tea cup
was by your side and a cat curled
at your feet sleeping.
A significant novel, In-
dian or another latter-day
Dickens was tented half-way through
on your breast. I am filled with joy—
by daughters who continue
to scout out
great big books to accompany
tea cups steeping, cats sleeping,
on lazy afternoons.
Ego cups have now been filled
To the point of overflowing
Confidence and power now heightened
Fuel to keep ego’s growing!
coconuts' concuss
light-craze boggles ~ sight failing
tourists blearing up
dented sand cups nut
hammer screwdriver to milk
machete dispatch
caribe-dude's swingin's no match
now - To The Gators!
.
It's not a road trip
it's a pup cup run with dogs
dairy queen's drive-thru
nor peace that dwell below us
even in the depths of hell
let Satan hoisted
His bright sails of light and darkness
to all the ships that sail
voices sing out towards the dark wine sea
bring forth the ubiquitous blue light
from the melodic swing of the pendulum
while navigating through dark spaces
we need ice water to quench our thirst
without forgiveness to come this far
life in the inferno that burn like the sun
nor peace that dwell below us
shall ask to fill our cups with good
She always had one
In her hand.
“Peanut butter cups,”
She’d say,
“They help me forget.”
She spent her saved change
On peanut butter cups
At the 7-11 down the road
Every day.
She would come to class
Holding a peanut butter cup
And would sit in the second row—
Second chair—
Eating it silently.
When she was done
She would fold the wrapper
Into a little heart
And slip it into her lunchbox.
I wondered
How many hearts she had made.
Crazy white rabbit trumpeter had a magic horn
You could hear its cloudy sound past the Iowa corn
I think he is in cups again my great-great-grandma said.
She always knew when he was stoned out of his head.
Reading Thomas More
at a bar in Prospect Park,
when she said
“Do you have an extra pen?”
That tarot reading didn’t last long
I don’t even particularly
believe in that kind of witchcraft
but she got me to admit
things I didn’t even know I knew.
She’s in California now
I am in her Brooklyn apartment
sitting on her hardwood floor,
trying to stop her cat
from eating paint.
I’m in Atlanta now,
she is vapor in the air,
I can taste the Two of Cups
if I breathe in deep
on Wednesday evenings.
Filling my cup over with all of the overflowing love
For my past and my present lovers sent from up above.
Indeed it was through them I have found true peace in mutual suave.
Four cups of wine
Fruit of the vine
Sounds like a mighty fine time
Truth be told, it's drunk late at night
with kids up and cranky
It's not my idea of a delight
Many heads will be spinning
for hours on end
And then the very next night ~
It's the same thing again
~ A Passover Tale ~
Four cups of wine
They say I must drink
I’m getting too old for this
Don't you think...
But I psyched myself up
and drank the first cup
The room didn’t spin
I thought I might win…
Then came a second cup
and later a third
I glanced at my son
He looked like a bird…
Came time for cup the fourth
but I took the fifth
So as not to incriminate myself ~
converted to Buddhism forthwith...
Now if ever there was a faerie
tale, this one is it
I had better stop here
‘fore' that wine drowns my wit
Are there feelings you must put out?
Or something you need to go about?
If passion could be a voice.
What tune will be performed?
If joy was a tangle.
Is it going to fall apart?
If love was a meal.
What will it taste like?
If you spread it to others.
Will it be a pointless exercise?
Perhaps affection is best seen.
Across cups of loneliness?
I kissed your cheek in front of them all, and in doing so, I think I damned the both of us.
You, to be left crucified and bleeding and paying for my sins.
Me, to be left wandering and wanting and never to see your face again.
So, I watch Rome fall. We both watch Rome fall, televised through the stained glass windows of this neglected place of worship. I can only see the red, the blood.
"You are something awful, something so horrendous that I cannot even say..."
Break my ribs and dive your hands into my chest, feel the beating of my heart. Oh, how it both beats for you and show that life isn't always warm.
"...cannot even say that I love you."
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