something only you understand

how halogen headlights are perfect

that I work until I sleep and  am not amusing

since I’m too tender of your feelings

to tread beyond the pale,

I’m un-frugal and a house slob and say

where’s my . . .? all the time and remember the dicta

of strangers  verbatim

seven years later.    You know.  You love me.

You know how fragile I believe the hearts of others,

Yet mine: once I get over your unfair critique

or my own bitter intuition

 I bang that pot in the basement with a spoon.

How I was sad for a month about a tsunami,

but am confused about film star deaths

impacting the lives of friends. How an argument

is a poem to me: lean,

metaphorical, resounding only when simple.

Why I can’t fathom how a kitty or a pup dies

with only an hour’s alarm

bending time, busting down a spruce called Acceptance

in a few kicks, both of my friends

witnessing, while on the phone with me,

breathing hard and jagged, drawing in life,

as though oxygen were suddenly salt

Who can know better than you

I am deeply satisfied for long unthinking hours of the day,

but my hands crave those words mourning

all the blank space before me, as I write over it,

Sad this, strange that; a seagull on the wind

Is a letter home.



One thought on “something only you understand

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