on lighting a cigar
I light a cigar, lean back remember dead friends dead days dead loves; so much has gone by for most of us, even the young, especially the young for they have lost the beginning and have the rest of the way to go;
The Uses of Sorrow
(In my sleep I dreamed this poem) Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this, too, was a gift. —Mary Oliver
when leather is a whip, martín espada
At night, with my wife sitting on the bed, I turn from her to unbuckle my belt so she won’t see her father unbuckling his belt
today, i think i’ve forgotten your voice. last night i was sitting in my room thinking of the myriad ways i could drag this on, pretend i could turn this into the biggest story you can find. why were we standing in empty spots thinking we could fill it in? i sleep all day, smoke cigarettes, drink alcohol and crawl back into bed. this is enough, ignore the dishes to be washed, the ...
Love is the phone ringing, the same voice or another voice but never the right...– Charles Bukowski
The loneliness was still there, but it was getting louder and easier to dance...
"Head, Heart" by Lydia Davis
Heart weeps. Head tries to help heart. Head tells heart how it is, again: You will lose the ones you love. They will all go. But even the earth will go, someday. Heart feels better, then. But the words of head do not remain long in the ears of heart. Heart is so new to this. I want them back, says heart. Head is all heart has. Help, head. Help heart.