Wednesday, December 14, 2016

A Post-factual Romance

I met you in a magic way
The morning after 
A long night 
When my laughter rang strong

I think you tasted my 
in the alleyway kiss of a lifetime 
And guessed 

that I come from a time that remembers 
Blood must be pumped into the brain
Before its first command is spoken

You are also well versed in the 
weaknesses of brains
Tricks of perception

Yes, there are facts of reality
But we all know the word is fiction

Spaceships don’t scare those who remember
oxygen is just a group of letters

You pushed me
Against the cold-graffiti-shutters
I felt my back press onto a warm bed of feathers

That was the moment I knew 
Your art is building the world I want
A world where the heart is remembered

Lost Coverage

There is a tactile love
that grabs you in your sleep
A love of
kisses that once killed Keats

We live in a world of tailgating 
easy lovers
brashly hopeful for a fortunate accident

But the memory of touch 
is from a back-alley affair

the kind that makes overfull stomachs ache
and windswept hairs stand 
as we frigidly shake
Naked, uninsured

A blue-road accident
unwitnessed, unfortunate
leaves me nothing but a scar
in settlement

be warned that
a left-handed lover 
does not negotiate

for years to come you will receive
bills to remind you that
your damages 

must still be paid