Farm Time

Hmm, yes, I do remember when I talked a lot more
and those times when I talked a lot less.
I remember when I wrote more, volunteered more,
when there was plenty—just gave more of that me.
But in this economy Jenny costs a pretty penny
“I can’t take that bet,” they murmur then they run
but a smart man will have learned it all;
he will take what he can get.

it’s kimmits dream

someone i had just met and chatted with at the bar left without saying goodbye.  i ran outside and chased him down the block calling his name.  “joe!  joe!”  my voice rarely gets used at that volume.  i choked as i ran and called him.  he was on a bicycle.  i ran faster.  he thought he heard his name.  he looked back but didn’t see me.  “jooooeee!”

he looked back right when my legs stopped and i was out of breath.  he saw me, smiled, and turned his bike around and pedaled back towards me.  “you left without saying bye.  and i just felt like i was never going to see you again.”  i defended my spazziness.

he gave me a hug and asked, “what’s your last name?”

“kim.”

“okay, well, i’ll add you on facebook.”

“its.  kimmits.  it’s jenny kimmits.”

“okay, jenny kimmits.  we will stay in touch then.  it was nice meeting you.”  and he started to get back on his bike.

“where are you going now?” i asked.

“to my storage unit.  to pick up my saxophone.” he pantomimed.  and then i woke up.

1.

In the master bedroom.  Paul flossing his teeth preparing for bed.  Jeannie enters after returning home from a party and begins changing into sleepwear.

PAUL:  Did you have fun at Pete’s fiesta?  I wish I could have gone but I just barely got off my shift.  I bet he played La Bamba at least five times.  And I bet he spilled his margarita but Betty wiped it up.

JEANNIE:   Yeah, as always—he made a huge mess on their rug.  He didn’t wipe up shit!  Betty did!  Your brother doesn’t do shit for himself, EVER!  And you know why?  Because you and your mom baby him.  And now he’s just retarded and Betty picks up all the slack.  You need to stop doing that.  It’s really annoying.

PAUL:  Yeah, I said I bet Betty wiped it up.

JEANNIE: Huh, what, oh.  I thought you said, but I bet he wiped it up.  You need to start speaking your words more clearly.

PAUL:  Yeah, okay.

JEANNIE:  And I said to stop doing that.

PAUL:  Doing what?

JEANNIE:   Flossing by the bed.  It’s really disgusting.

Waves

I’m articulate
my boyfriend’s surfer
Drunk or drowning
—one way or other
We talk in barrels
And it’s totally tubular.

Personal Hour in the City

Quiet and still;
I stand on a city block
and feel wafts of air
from the flight of city owls
on my hair;  they are too swift to see
they move in half-seconds.
Them dog fish of the suburban sea.

I am taking a personal hour
to get reacquainted with the sky,
the guise of aging,
and yet another solitary moment passing me by.
An appointment I never made with Father Time.

All too familiar; yet every night is new—
In the silence I can hear my own snide laugh
at what I’ve done and what I anticipate to do.

Hold on to Your Hats and Glasses

We stood on the platform
close to one another
to be able to hear our voices
and to keep our faces warm.

We heard cars on tracks
and metal on metal overhead.
I looked at my watch
we were on time;
the trains were not.

For minutes I laughed
at what was whispered in my ear.
When the cars pulled up we waited
for them and the cold wind to stop.

He grabbed my hand
and we went inside.
I was going to see a whole new land
another side of this man
I couldn’t wait; he  kisses the tops of my hands.

I braced myself for something new
to define my adult life
But the train began rocking from side to side
I wanted off; I had no idea this motherfucker
was taking me for a hellride.

Pillow Talk

This lonely feeling
I don’t mind it
Neither do I  like
feeling a body in my bed
between sheets and blankets
and hard covers and pages
I say things and quickly take them back.

Riding the Bus With You at Night

Reflections on the windows of opportunity
of your face against the dark sky
lit up by hundreds of far away city lights;
Even through fog and heavy half-open eyes
I know I am in the right place at the right time, 
on the bench leaning on your side
We take a turn, we lift our chins
Afterall, we want to see what the next road brings
I settle in my seat and close my eyes
by far the most enjoyable city bus ride.

A Snapshot in Time

I was tired of the urgency.
I burned out all my backburners.
Handsome chances came I turned them away.
Hey, I’m not a tortoise or a hare.
You never cared because I said things out of character like,
“Yo, I’ll get there when I get there.”
Nobody likes an unpredictable Ms.
yet still tasted sweetness in the ultimate kiss.
It was that genuineness that made it hard.
But one side was matte and the other gloss.
We should have made up our mind,
but I only faked mine
and left things with the flat side up.
All we needed was one to flick it;
No one did it; so we lost.
No we won’t shine on and on.
At least we have the photo,
one side matte and the other gloss.

In Dreams

We dream to achieve “great things.”
In dreams we fly, breathe underwater,
and hug dead grandfathers.
We can cause tigers,
or starving cats that lap milk out of our hands.
We open our eyes
and can’t resist to interpret the “meaning of life” beyond the night.
And how we dreamed the same dreams!
We were kids in a lot of them
at the house and at the park.
Swinging on swings–
all while we slept apart.
A dream can be a terrific experience
that by most mornings we forgot.