8.
How big is empty?
If you can feel that
then you know how
to play this character.
Funeral Reception
A young woman waits
with two plates.
She has three more to fill.
Someone must’ve died
since ladies keep bringing
casseroles and cakes.
One under-fed kid just ate
six pieces of chicken.
Then there’s dumplings.
Then there’s apple cobbler.
If no one has died
then some will shortly –
choked on an English pea,
a wayward chicken bone,
or one of those tiny
ambrosia marshmallows.
There is the Earth
with its gaping mouth.
The woman sets the plate
down.
She sits down.
X-Corps
Eugene changed her name
again – she’s also known as
June.
9.
Now she enters the room.
There’s a buzz, a hum.
Lights suddenly sparkle,
conversation bubbles.
Eyes adjust to richer color.
June is a one-woman rebel.
She brings butterflies back
to life. Birds spin in the air.
Her youth feeds us like rain.
When she’s angry she’s mean.
Such is the power of will.
Is that you, June?
Will we ever see Eugene?
Think About Them
Ever notice how
when you think
about someone
it’s more physical
(you feel it more)
than talking face
to face?
That’s the way
he wanted.
10.
Past Your Love
Head in the blue. Smell that sky.
Don’t have time to change your mind.
We go to short grass and blooms.
The clouds peculiarize themselves
in this bluster of breeze and scents.
Count your toes among my fingers.
How your poems make me crazy.
I drown in brain storms.
I fold back my eyelids and light lighters.
The telephone melts to my ear.
Vividly the poems describe
your teeth rubbing tenderly against
nipples. Like waves on a calm
white ocean, your kisses ripple
across a well-fed belly.
The wind arranges your hair.
These are the things to be done:
Build a good fire.
Set up the tent.
Watch the sunset.
Talk.
Bitter Dreams
Those acquaintances from high school
are gone.
They are not a part of my life.
And they never were.