Selected Poems
What this feels like
When the expensive wine ran out
we backed away to neutral corners,
bare knuckles dropped to our sides.
Dating her (or whatever that was called
the laughing until tears, the over-intense stares)
was a point-blank brain concussion.
Our nights ended with a rising sun. Intent
on riding home, in jostling subways
holding water in the hollow of our hands.
We parted sour, dangling from exhaustion
gladly leaning back on a folding chair
loitering for balance past the tipping point.
Dizzy annoyed and dry-mouthed addicted,
anyone admitting powerlessness over her
has taken the first step.
we backed away to neutral corners,
bare knuckles dropped to our sides.
Dating her (or whatever that was called
the laughing until tears, the over-intense stares)
was a point-blank brain concussion.
Our nights ended with a rising sun. Intent
on riding home, in jostling subways
holding water in the hollow of our hands.
We parted sour, dangling from exhaustion
gladly leaning back on a folding chair
loitering for balance past the tipping point.
Dizzy annoyed and dry-mouthed addicted,
anyone admitting powerlessness over her
has taken the first step.
