August 10, 2012
Friday night patio party.
Drinks with the server crew.
The Exterminator untangles
cords behind the stereo,
a glowing green-eyed demon,
excited to unleash
a swarm of houseflies
into our ears.
Finger
at our local bar
you put my finger
in your mouth
and suck
apart from
your partner
this now lingers
in my mind
takes a field day
in my dreams
because
I had a crush
and this kind of touch
will lead me where
I must go no
longer
The Photographs of Layzerus
were supposed to have fountains
not just in Santa Clarita, but
in Akron, too, a missed
moment against a brick wall
of self the undermined
understanding of art
versus creator, physical
creation versus memory
music I sang to create
a sentiment of dust
Three Rivers Studios
I.
wood waddles
down the path
of silos
II.
maze of memories–
in each room
you’ll find a hundred
III.
a vastness
walking
end to end
After
I want more– god,
our nights on the patio
are memory’s reruns.
I want it back: you,
your hand secretly
caressing my chest
beside the dead firepit.
Everything. You asked
to craft me a drink
with Firefly whiskey.
You made it strong
& asked if I could
withstand this. No–
I’m weak. Each kiss
that night, your lips
sudden, brief– through
the crowd we looked
for each other, making
a game of running
around the kitchen island
to never catch the other,
but how close we were
to giving our all. This
close to telling you
I never could get over
you. But here’s
a chance to start.