She came to me
out of the purple dusk
sure-hooved and restless.

Ears up
neck arched
Doe-eyed.

I stretched out
a handful of offering.
All that I had.

Two beings reaching
communing in this vast space.
Wilderness bound -

The Town crowding us both out
beyond forgiveness
to the last curb.

Yet here we stay -
locking eyes
growing old
feeling our way home.

She has been asleep for hours in our bed.

Little hands tucked up under little ears.

I think it is not too many hours until she wakes again.

I stand and stretch

moving toward the stairs to join her.

But instead of passing you

I remove from your lap what distracts you and sit

straddling you as if I am the child.

My chin on your shoulder

My back hunched and relaxed under your hands.

I stay there unable to move.

Then I stand up.

Take off my pants.

You pull your pants off at my obviousness.

I sit back on you

moving

swaying

saying nothing.

I look around the room.

It is filled with toys and shoes

the clutter of our decade together.

Of our lives in motion

ticking

rocking

racing.

A life that I cannot remember a time before.

]]> http://peripheralvision.wordpress.com/2008/02/17/again/feed/ 0 Out Loud http://peripheralvision.wordpress.com/2008/02/15/for-w/ http://peripheralvision.wordpress.com/2008/02/15/for-w/#comments Fri, 15 Feb 2008 09:04:35 +0000 Michelle Taylor http://peripheralvision.wordpress.com/2008/02/15/for-w/ ]]>  

Hate breaks me.

And you drip with

wealthy sarcasm.

Laughing in the face

of those who need.

Oh, what you COULD offer

if you had only experienced

just a little bit of what we are-

the gardeners

the cooks

the drivers

the teachers

the soldiers-

those you step over.

Living in nonchalance.

Pretending we’re doing fine.

Turning away,

breaking into a grin,

making a joke at our expense.

So you can make

your next golf shot.

(Please use the back door on your way out.)

I could turn left in front of a bus

while driving

when late for work.

And

I could be with you

without you even seeing me.

Just like when we were together.

and rolled onto her back.

The sun made a perfect pattern

on the ceiling and her eyes

followed the shape the curtains made.

He was up on both elbows

looking down on her.

“What is wrong with you?”

“What are you looking at?”

He followed her eyes

and turned to look at the ceiling.

Her hand shot out from her body

and shook as she pointed

to the shape.

A long slender neck wound

upward to a small head.

Feathers flowed down the back

and caught in the wind of the curtains.

“I was dreaming I was a bird.

I was taking off from the pond on Jackson street

and just as my wings cut through the air

shedding water and gravity

something caught my foot

and pulled me back to earth.”

She paused.

“And there I am stuck in white plaster.”

He looked closer at the figure on the ceiling.

“It looks like an old man

in a hat fishing for trout!”

He lay back down and patted her bare theigh under the sheets.

She pulled away and began to rise

but his arm was pinning her hair to the bed

and she suddenly fell back to the mattress.

that just because

you play in a band

in your underwear

with way too much whiskey on board

that I’ll go home with you

take off my clothes

assume the position

and give something of myself to you.

God, I’ve done that.

Man, I can’t do that again.

I use to be the stalker

The one with the swagger

The lonely gait

Walking up to break you

Not to tease

but to promise

for at least one night

But now I know

a little bit of something about me

I get lost in the sweat

It becomes my longing

My addiction

Even if you suck

Swapping fluids at my old age of 3+3

Just makes me want to find out more

Not less like before

Do you really think

it’s such a great idea

taking me home

walking around inside of me

and then walking me back to the curb

in an hour or two

I’m done with that scene

Band or no band

Briefs or no briefs

Sweat or no sweat

But I did

think about it

Given up.

Delivered

Inwardly purged

Startled and sprawling

Naked in the assumed position.

Gutted

Flushed grotesquely

From fin to tip to feet

Flailing skinless and sallow.

Cracked

Spilling regret

Seething and morbid

Crawling across your ego.

Blatantly scarred

Bent in surrender

Holding out empty hands

Punished from passing the platter.

Caressed by your indifference

Stranded at the peak of loneliness

Brandishing the copper shield of anger

Buying the entire load and traveling south.

Given in and given up

Stealing away with your regret slipped in my back pocket.

In undulating

Undulating praise

In worship

Of falling

Of crushing

Leaves traveling

From branch

To footfall

A cascade

A conscious stream

Branches letting go

Of beloved

Praying

Letting go

Letting go

Freeing

Watching the veins

From stem to tip

Blood-letting

Suckling the last sap

To wean

To rain

In a waterfall

Of cream and amber

Startling wet

Flowering over the body

Searching out

A resting place

A hollowness

A porcelain figure to bathe

To weave an earth-spun

Soil velvet fire.

You took a shit on my lawn.

I took it as a sign.