There are times that thunder and conversations that disappear
Into nicks of lightening.
As truthful as your kiss
Is the lie of your failure to arrange
Your feelings
Into sincere admirations and cuddles.
If I could understand your thoughts I would not argue
With your language.
You juggle the alphabet like letters in disguise,
The subterfuge of spelling.
What comes out of our relationship is a third person.
Not singular.
We shall overcome distance.
You don't have to reach for me to hold me.
I have entered your valley without a solitary footstep
Like a tree falling down.
You rise up from the ocean like the comment you made yesterday
About my not paying enough attention to the waves
Of your conversation.
I did.
I do.
I drown in what you are saying.
I stand on one foot and knock the water from my ears.
I am your Adriatic Sea.
I am your clam.
I am whatever tidal emotion I have to dive through
To land on your island,
To date you again as I did in 1970 on the island of Lokrum
Before Yugoslavia became the spear gun haven of insane divers killing
Each other because they never understood that
We were only vacationing,
That a resort is not made for hooking into night's pleasantries with
Political stingrays.
I am barbed.
I am dead.
I remember staying in a local's house for five dollars a night.
There were no heads in the closets.
The only violence was the fickle spray of skyrockets
During a fireworks show.
I am still with you and I am paying attention to you now
Unlike the Yugoslavians who failed each other.

You arrive in the absence of retrieval as the moon falls
Into a jar of butterflies.
The other day I followed your foot to see if I could find
A pair.
Somehow we always come together to repeat
Our attempts at perfection.
The car door slams on my finger until I remember
That I don't own a car.
I turn on the radio.
I dance to my own music like God without responsibilities.

Today I didn't want to buy anything at the Gap.
It was just that the long line at the cash register
Frightened me.
I used to shop at Bergdoff's.
Did that make me a bigger person or careless?
I should have paid my taxes.
I wouldn't have gone to jail or lost my business.
Afterthought is not a lesson learned but
Language remembered.
I can recite my sins but why rehash
Other people's opinions,
And beef.
I stew a little but don't really care.
It's a long time since I was the rich David,
My alter-inflation.
Some other chauffeur is driving my Rolls Royce.
I go down to the subway and count my bills.
I have three twenties.
They are as green as rumors or politics.
I wonder if I can wear them on my cuffs
Like a rich environmentalist.
I don't believe in manmade global warming.
I want to be a sunspot that changes my wife's
I want to be an all-natural contagion.
I spread like rumors about the things I've done.



The ghost of failed emotions that runs out of the gym
Has stolen my boxing gloves.
Now I have to punch myself bare-fisted.
I am Jack Sullivan.
I used to punch myself in the face
While listening to rock and roll
Because I was afraid to get into a fight.
I just wanted the bruises,
The prizes,
The black and blue decals I could show off
To girls.
I wanted them to love me.
There wasn't much to cuddle up to in myself.
Introspection is a lonely pillow. 
Give them impressions.
Give them the deep scars that blush up through
The skin.
Give them something they can't hold onto but
Can sense like a Bible written in a foreign language.

      David Lawrence 2010