i found the world wrapped in tape, halfway up a tree,
finding puzzles the way i find paint: the way people talk, the reasons that we love,
and i love you past the moon (they always say) and finding ways to go to mars
one day i can’t wait, i’m following and leading at the same time (you too),
and some nights i see your shoulders from the front and your lullabies
from against your chest when only mine is rising and falling like thunderstorms
but i know that when we find the tree, i’ll be up there with you and right now
i’m finding you around every corner and above any height;
perfect isn’t perfect but perfect is you and we always land in the right places
because the world wasn’t made for hot air balloons,
bananas chap my lips,
and shoes don’t fit my toes,
i’m moving. i made a list of reasons
and all of them were in my gut,
behind my collar bone,
closer to you and farther from long hair and glue gun burns;
happier (closer) to what i wanted in january,
farther (closer) from my love for my sister -
i’m sorry (it’s not that i can’t find the world in you)
someone cut the shoes hanging from our backyard wires, and sometimes
brussel sprouts taste like fish - hey,
beer with dinner isn’t as good as you thought it would be
and i’m afraid of growing bellies the way
you’re afraid of worms in brussel sprouts:
was that so hard?
my hair is everywhere,
and if i could be as quietly intelligent as her, i would be.
i think my purple toes make sense,
if you count the mobiles in my neighbor’s window
and your sad way of saying goodbye;
i want to count the stars, brother,
although the city (yours) is too much.
i don’t think i can finish my beer (1.50 left) -
want it? i don’t care how many times
your girlfriend told you to shave your legs,
and if you don’t drink my beer i don’t think i can anymore.
why do you leave the light on Even after
they clipped the shoes from the backyard wires?
why are you a stranger in our house?
lazy is cheesesteaks to me, meeting friends but being confused
by one of them. well i know you’re awkward too,
me and you and me and you,
closer than last month but still far from together
waiting for my cold sore to go away -> oh they’re home!
finding clothes and talking coke (not us) i remember you still love me;
how i won’t tell you i’m alone.
constipation grumpies climbing,
among many people i like, i know Nothing (not even peter)
will make me smile again unless i poo, (but occasionally
glancing over to the mountains and dropping
my breath for the light in the valleys)
and it’s hard to listen to the mountains
instead of the traffic jam in my intestines
so any minute now, i’ll explode (counting the train stops
while the lady behind hums soulful
renditions of the conductor’s Sharp voice Lord,
tea is too hot for today and my stomach in knots
because of the goodbyes i have to say:
a year is a year is a year is a year
nd a handful is easy but one person is hard,
looking and you and hoping that a poem that happens to my stomach is no where near my heart)
yea the dips in the seats on the train hold water when it’s raining;
i sometimes put my umbrella there but mostly
sit on them without remembering.
got 20 cents more for the subway back?
people who smoke on the train wish a lot of things,
and perfect isn’t perfect so
So dependent on feelings i’m finding you tucked away
in my own little corner of the room.
words are harder when you don’t have time for them.
a little self-centered, i don’t understand “loving yourself,”
but something in me says go -
something in my lower back Or
in my shoulders Or in my brain asks
Do You Pray For Me? can you pray for me,
and where do we find something we both believe in?
asked you to read my testimony, my manifesto,
listen to my jumbled sermon feelings but mostly
be a little nicer - what to keep to myself nd
what to say are: am i doin it right?
love, love love
love love love love.
maybe my change is from you,
or maybe i’m all talk, dancing terribly with dangerous possibilities of how
fast i’d cry, and
how much time i’ll have for words.
i don’t understand either of us, like bathroom mirrors on both walls
i bounce back and forth (and back and back and back), not knowing which one is you and which one is
Hungry Angry Lonely Tired - have i stopped you?
running makes me taller and contacts fog up my eyes, somehow
a call to you is like any summer, perfect then unbearable (you say)