BLUE PERIOD

she implores me to go West
leave the fickle Eastern air behind
leave the ponds caked over with ice
ponds made mirrors that line the sides of highways and shimmer in the indecisive night
in the dark lit by lighter light
inside a phone booth
beside a 24 hour diner
under a holy astronomic sky

she begs me to love her fully
to hold her with red knuckles
to warm her cool midnight fingers with
the scent of my heat

she asks me to remember the wind how it reveals
invisible spirits on playgrounds midsummer as
they swing on the swings and to think upon
the chirp in her laugh
the red wine split on that one sunflower party dress
the scent of lilacs
the way it mixes and stirs the blood
the phenomenal sharing of love

i think to myself that i want to go
but i don't want to go no
i don't want to
i don't want to

MIDSUMMER NIGHTS DREAM

in this particular dream we are two pigeons carrying important messages all
across the land and across the channel,
over all the men with ears muffled by fiery blast, over the pastures made sacred with cold lifeless flesh,
perched sometimes to rest on a branch to catch a breath overhearing words such as i love you and i miss you and i need you and oh how i am sorry

and as we fly together we wonder why we don't care
why we think, "they're not even pitiful"

for a moment i realize that you're the one who, in the night, sleeps still while i kick my legs and shift my head

but we still sleep comfortably

then all of a sudden in the dream we find stray bullets piercing our wings and we fall into the earth, into a motherly embrace

and in that moment we are falling together, melting
together, fading into a distant sun

dissolving into one other:

becoming one