Heath

South of Houston mourns,

as does North, West, and East of Houston,

all the way to Brokeback’s summit

and up through the light-blue-dark-blue sky.

(for my Brokeback Boy)

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Fire

It came out – suddenly
came into – me
your lips kiss mine
the stab, the fear, the comfort

Your heartbeat – through your lips
through mine
and the longing is pushed out
discovered, awakened, caressed

Lips that part, find the fit
interlock, embrace, as equals
not even a whisper of a threat
open, real, hold, home

A warmth unlike – ever
beyond the touch of my finger now
melts the boundaries within
it beats, invades, remains

Something rising from nothing
no – from somewhere mine
out of frozen, suffocated years
a breath, a truth, a fire.




(inspired by the film, “Fire”, written by Deepa Mehta)

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F-Train

I like someone who has a hint of a smile because I wonder what it is they're thinking about. I like sitting with my feet up in the back of the bus. I like walking in the park, Central Park. I like above-ground trains. I love movies, for everything that's in them. I like how fast the commute passes when you're writing, unless it makes you miss your stop.

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On the L.I.R.R.

GONE

You can’t believe where it’s going. What to do, read a book, who’s this absolute stranger why do we think they have answers? What about this other absolute stranger who shouldn’t be a stranger at all? Right by the side every minute every second never leaving always grieving – to be INside. You close your eyes you close the doors. You can’t believe how dark it is. But there’s a roaring in that blind darkness. What does it say? You can’t believe where it’s going. It’s gone.



HERE

There’s a face on the TV. A beautiful face for a sad inspiring life.
But help me what are pen-paper-script but pen-paper-script and how is memorize-engage-reshoot real? There are no reshoots here. Here there is only movement one way, emotions bursting forth never a “cut!” no artist to shape words, feelings, outcomes. But there is an artist here isn’t that true? Here there is one who moves and creates, changes and howls for drama, for action, in tears. There’s no disney flip a page push a button hero saves the day. Can’t wait for a hero. And if you look to the beautiful face there, you find her helpless. Rewind backward sad. Fast forward speed inspiring. Mute. Stop. Eject. Helpless to help you. There’s but one hero. Here.



RAIN

When you weren’t looking the day passed by, a butterfly flew, a game was played, a shoe was tied, a man was shot, the sun moved west, a poet sighed, a shirt was mended, a clue was written, a fortune was lost, a fence was painted, a window was broken, a light went on, a baby smiled, a tree shivered, a bell sang, the morning opened, a fervor began, the train filled up, life chugged on, and when you weren’t looking it started to rain.

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PhD

From wandering, narrow and aimless
I come upon light and opening.
Smile bright, but quick and nervous;
gaze gentle, but fleeting and unsure.

To struggle with mine words
is to touch a boundary soft with mystery,
but to struggle with mine heart
is to impale my Self upon the gate.

When I run, you encircle my pain,
fueling it, healing it, you know not your strength.
In your hands you hold me a nation.
I wander within, you kiss me home.

When she comes to represent an entire country,
if this be love, know now its ruthless power.

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Clear Skies

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