the impossible appearances

i was wearing a teal rosary and now there is this crick
in my neck and i've been thinking
about stigmata. all these things are true
but i'm not trying to say anything. i'd like to fly
to california and not wonder
why. the world at times can seem impossible.

scene II

she wore her confidence like a scarf
she was always slipping off her shoulders
to tie around her head and play-act
the scene of a white convertible
carving up a mountain.

they said she slipped during an art class at the Metropolitan Museum,
and she ripped through a Picasso entitled the actor.

also, there was a man. excitedly bragging
about his newly acquired Van Gogh, he was so excited
he ran his elbow right through it.

just imagine that one.

over and over and over again.

the scene

she wore her confidence like a scarf
she was always slipping off her shoulders
to tie around her head and play-act
the scene of a white convertible
carving up a mountain.

they said she slipped during an art class at the Metropolitan Museum,
and she ripped through a Picasso, entitled the actor.

also, there was a man once, excitedly bragging
about his newly acquired Van Gogh. So excited, was he
he ran his elbow right through it. Imagine that.

over and over and over again.

the scene

she wore her confidence like a shawl she was always slipping off
and wrapping around her head
to play-act the scene of the white convertible
carving up a mountain.

the impossible appearances

i was wearing a rosary and now there is this crick in my neck and i've been thinking about stigmata.

all these things are true but i'm not trying to say anything.

i'd like to fly to california and not wonder why.

the world at times seems impossible.

pity & the state of things: a good man moves to texas

he spent three days in a coma and when he woke up, he knew
he wouldn't be here forever. instead, he would move to texas.
there would be no pity there,

he would take loud deborah with him, he would take the train,
and we would call the train loud deborah--
we would wave our hands and tremble on the platform.

there would be no regulars at the bar. mostly, there would be no pity
and none of the old bathroom stalls. the bands would come through
the new town, same as the old one, especially loud Deborah

who shows up everywhere and who shows up singing
through a mouthful of hamburger meat. we'd play a song about her
and pass the whiskey, screaming sorrow is a joke.

later, we'd fallen over and into eachother
& our abandoned belongings filled the empty spaces. loud deborah chugged on
like a train with no stops, she sang
go to sleep you little baby and she clapped her hands--
she was right there with us, the whole time
recording it all: a good man was leaving us here

so loud deborah slammed the door open for the good man
to let the cat out and the cat came back too quickly
because there is no pity & the cat won't move now there is no pity
& no one gets abandoned when a good man moves
to texas.

to the piano teacher

love is a shelf where i've kept you preserved,
next to a sign which says please
do not touch.

i applied to be your piano teacher
and you taught me to play the piano.

we said little of the time apart.

we said little as we described the shape
of the large, white elephants we could never name &
still, i did not feel we were lying.

but you would leave me

in this house with too many rooms
while everyone around me left for work.

while i stayed home.
i played your piano & no one would hire me
to play your piano.

no one would tell me the chords.
i would ask them the names of the chords, i would tell them
i quit guitar to hide my lonely palms.

i would press you into the long white keys.