Two Poems

Lilian, Jean and Jesus

 Why did you let her jump?
 Wasn't she a wanderer too?
 Like you
 alone so long
 not on hot roads
 but in bedrooms stark with emptiness
 kitchens like lonely islands
 with so many dishes to do.

 Was she reaching?
 The way those frightened Jews reached
 emptiness yawning for meaning
 you gave them beatitudes
 what did you give
 my grandmother?

 You found us but
 she found a bottle full of pills
 and an endless sleep
 turning her back
 on your rough and weathered hand
 a holy communion deferred
 a strange solitude preferred


The Green Dress

Maybe it's the exploding outward
of the invisible liquid pulse
Maybe it's the hopeful radiating
of joyous blush
Maybe it's the way I fall
into a vortex of endorphic maybes
when I see the bulge
of your lower lip,
stretching, reaching
into smile.

The creative blast furnace
of playful woman lust
young chthonic desire
and thrusting shoot of
new growth is all you.

So deeply awesome it is
that I grow new shoots too
and I feel the sap boil in my roots
and my branches holding the sun
the wind the rain

that can't be contained
by your amazing
green dress.

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