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punchlines

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the punchlines bring the
laughter lines bring the
may flowers in my
parents' shower bring the
sadness in waves of
sliding salt make the
happiness come rising like
underwater hot-air balloons.

it's
A LITTLE LIKE:
wide eyes, a dead bird, blue
electricity, feathers found
on the ground
or a little chocolate frown
on fondue freckles, speckles
and rocks,
pebbles
and plots -

he bought
me books and things i haven't
looked at since - they make out
on the twin bed,
knocking keds, like
sweaty kids wondering "is this
how we are supposed to do it?"

they exhale little souls,
and lick
their cigarette fingertips -
just to lay on the half of the bed,
wrapped up in help with all the
lights turned off.

it's unearthly, it is blinding,
all the facts and all the whispers.
we used to get boxes,
now we get envelopes.
you don't have to
decide about me yet, with the
curtains wide open.

you said you felt dirty, i said
i felt stupid, together we should
feel dirty and stupid but instead,
i feel so clean and so smart.

and as you closed your eyes in the library, i knew
i was meant to live my life and then
tell people about it - you are dangling,
you make my eyes water, we are
naked in your garage.

and when you decide
to open up your smile
and finish that painting on the wall,
we'll throw away
our cameras and
make do with just our eyeballs,

and have our sleepovers in your mailbox.

it's
A LITTLE LIKE:
trampolines, an
old booming organ, or the
pretty conversations
stringed together. marijuana and
candy canes, lanterns
and spiders, candles and saints, or
a little like teenagers -
crying in the bathroom stall,
our backs slide down the wall,
waiting in the lunch line wallet in hand,
smiling and nodding like we understand,
and we will soon.





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