The Theme This Week: Relationships

I have had time to write exactly two poems this semester (last few months). They are as follows:

Missing

Do you want to know what it is like without you here?

It is busy

and black

like Wall Street.

Now there is a void at my side where you used to be,

into which slides all of my understanding

and my longing;

all of my referential humor

and laughter

until I am sliding from a crescendo

into an awkward half-chuckle

off-set by a mumbled guessyouhadtobethere.

I see sexual relations everywhere.

In the room next door.

In the car pool lane.

In spring coming early and couples popping out along the streets.

Especially in the wild, foggy night

driving down Mockingbird,

listening to Joni Mitchell and missing you.

In my dreams,

and yours.

On the refrigerator, even.

And still,

my dear,

I wait for you.

What choice do I have but wait?

Crippled and strange as I am here, now,

with some important piece of me missing:

an arm or a leg,

my heart, maybe.

Missing.

(Conversely...)

I Have Become Frustrated With Our Relationship Again, Dear

My God, America,

you are so beautiful in the night-

all your ridges and curves spread out

before me on the open road,

all bathed in moonlight and my own yearnings.

You have nothing but smiles for me, then.

Smiles and promise

and a thousand tiny triumphs that make me feel

so god-damned human again.

Until it is morning and I am sipping my coffee

in front of CNN and you are yelling at me again.

You want to talk to me about my choices, about my decisions.

You wish I cared more about what you have to say

and why have I been questioning you so much lately, anyway?

Don’t I trust you anymore?

You wish I would lighten my hair and you hint that

I could stand to lose a couple of more pounds

And what, exactly, am I doing with my next paycheck?

But I just smile and sip my coffee.

I kiss you on the cheek before walking out the door.

Have a good day, baby.
I’ll see you tonight.