mirror mirror in the stall
who is this man in
this reverberating room
who just moments ago
excused himself
and left his date
to collect his thoughts
and a
few mints
and why is he
splashing his face
with tap water
and then
pressing
his hands into
prayer position
in the air dryer
while wishing
for this night
to end
with a kiss
and now
the object
of his desire
enters that
sacred
place
and he
realizes
he is in
the ladies room
I think that people
take drugs and drink because they don’t want to be alive
or they want to be somewhere else.
They want to be in a world where dreams are.
A world
where god is.
A world where
anything is possible.
A place where love can be
For all the time
And time is eternal.
No pain, no regret, no sin.
A place
where words don’t exist at all.
Nobody needs to say anything
It is all known.
You don’t need to ask for anything or ask any questions
because you don’t need anything and you know all the answers.
Yea, perhaps that is why some people drink or take drugs.
They remember that place
and don’t understand why they are here.
Of course, I know and so do you too.
We are all angels sent back to see the side of choice.
The chance to do the right thing
When
we have a choice to do the wrong.
The only thing I can’t quite work out is
why I am here?
How about you
can you work it out?
The day you chose to stare at the television
instead of engaging in simple conversation
I developed pleurisy.
My lungs burnt up as if hot pokers had outlined them
My shoulder blades grew metal wings that
shredded through my thin skin casings
I went to the doctor, each breath a searing ember
Maybe it’s viral, they said.
The x-rays revealed nothing
No one could validate the shape of the burn.
I coughed dryly as you watched reruns of old movies
engrossed in repeating worlds
on and on into infinity you watched as
The virus ate away at my chest,
the lower half of my ribs and
the gray spaces behind my heart.
i loved the music
though seeing people
born when carter was president
made me feel old
my price for being big
and black
was getting mistaken repeatedly
by ms. dkny blondie
for a security guard
i’d stand against the wall
the groove jumping inside me
until ms. blondie
tapped me on the shoulder
“c’mon dance with me
you know you wanna do it.”
i tried to tell her genetics
weren’t kind to me
but she smiled sweet
and grabbed my hand
and away we went
he smiles and hugs me
asks how I’m doing
I’m fine I say
we talk a little
spend the day together
watch a movie, buy some groceries
cook dinner
then he tucks me in
says goodnight
and heads up the stairs
I hear the groan of springs
her soft cries
I think of a vacation from long ago
on a white beach
the hot sand burning my feet
and fall asleep
to his sickly sweet whines
tomorrow
he will come down for breakfast
we will sit at the table together
and eat
he will smile again
say how much he misses me
and how he can’t wait for next Saturday
I will nod and say yes
I can’t wait either
then I will kiss him on the cheek
and go home