Sunday Poems IV

Sundays feature weather slowly turning because winter does come eventually even if summer is clinging like a leaf. Tomorrow is the federal election. I talked about that last week, so I’m going to leave you to your own thoughts on the matter. Some governments are more legitimate than others.

Every Sunday I’m offering you, best beloved, a poem to read. Maybe you can pick it up and toss it around a little bit. Maybe you can read it to a friend and feel how it tastes on the tongue. Today is a love poem. When I was first writing poems as a teenager, most of them were about love or politics, because that’s mostly what I cared about. Eventually this embarassed me. Then I read the great odes of folks like Pablo Neruda and Federico Garcia Lorca and saw just how much you can discuss in terms of love. I hope there is something nearby which you love tonight.

October is

ouroboros nipples,
a few moments of fear
and lots of teeth:

i’m beside you
and you are above me
and i’m a part of you
your liver
helping you get through
the world.

a can of coffee
maybe a few pills,
white, perforated.

maybe we grew our hair out
and maybe we cut it all off.

it doesn’t make a difference
and i’m closing my eyes
until they are opened again

your fingers can
peel back that flesh.

call my name.

maybe take off my hair
maybe take back my name
give me a new one
this is a dance we do.

chalk it up to being
at the end of my rope
maybe an essay
on fear
is the work of the day
you should open your mouth
and i’ll be inside there
maybe tapping at your teeth.

hoping for something else.

open me up
look down my throat with a flashlight.

my flesh is on fire
and those flames touch you
and together we are books
with our spines to each other.

you poke your finger at some letters.

the kerning could be improved.

what could we make ourselves into?

more work to do
another book put together
another secret
you can read off of my back.

another melody i remember
and i can hum it into your earlobe.

i don’t know how it could be improved.

there are more voices now,
we remove the teeth
from this phrase;
we settle ourselves down.

‘you’re my hero’

i open up and then i close again.

call revenue canada.

This post was originally written on October 18, 2015 for Latitude 53, while I was their Writer in Residence.