Gitta.

She is a good woman

she lights a chord

lights on her cigarette

and drinks to the board

while the tender is brilliant

billowing bright

the good woman smiles

she shouts and she cries

She is a good woman!

She is worth what she takes!

And she'll take what they give her

whatever the stake

For she's a good woman

and she calls me her friend

Yah- she's a good woman

with tears in her gin

her eyes large with ages

with hours of proof

she spills me her secrets

'cause her Englisch ist gut!

and her embrace is longing

we've said what we can

She is a good woman

her drink warm in her hand

thirteen on her tab

she can never afford

but she takes what she's given

she deserves what she's served

For it's never her fault.

She's worked for it all.

She is a good woman

in breaking she calls

"I am a good woman!"

"One of millions." she sighs

"I am a good woman."

"I am a good woman."

"I am a good woman."

She lies.

The Charity

Last night we rode to Dusseldorf

Flashing windows

leather seats

a white business Euro van

and the generosity of the Turk

the most genial

More than his restaurant

more than his motor

his English a broken German

a Kebab of incredible freedom

But some things are not what hey seem

When things are too good they must be

untrue

You cannot trust a dark man

with nothing to gain

So we eat with tendered caution

skip the tea and mind our emotions

The hour comes

it's time to go

and the Turkish man returns

on a smile

Erkan,

his name is Erkan.

Erkan returns with open arms

he drives us through Germany

he only wants to help

with nothing to gain

he is a father

extending good wealth

On we rode to Dusseldorf

suspicion biased and needless

a kind heart rolling down the highway

a white business Euro van

the generosity of Erkan.

Paris 1925

It's a gray day

you walk creaky red shag

hundred year old wood

in a hundred year old flat

It's a gray day

the street is never silent

as you serenade your new guitar strap

and score ping-pong to my head

It's a gray day

I dream of marmalade and cookies

Nutella stuck in my gums

and pancakes

a gray day.

My toes are curled in air

thick with coconut

you scraped thin with your own hands

it's a gray day

The strawberries ripen crimson

without sunshine

because they love pollution

it's a gray day.

You close the door,

to play more private

but I want to be there with you

on our gray day

in Paris 1925.

What doesn't fit on a postcard.

I miss you with the pounding of tomorrow

scrambled yolks on deep fried lashes

flashing breaks and pitching slumbers

lumbering to the edge of my conscious mind

A baked dozen wishes floating on the thermals

east-west current crashing hard against my rock

clattered weight of promises and promised

I promised I would always love you

and I do.

And I will always be the face of all your mermen

singing sweet the ocean's lullaby calling

by and by we bring you home

don't worry darling I'm waiting.

I can wait six lifetimes and that I will

a written testament to all the loves that ever were

We're the lucky ones!

Scream it loud for all eternity, "The lucky ones!"

And I love you

with a passion that exists for only one thing!

Bring your body close to mine

because I'm here to give my life to you.

Erin.

She's got black hair

dark eyes

and she has your name

but she will never be

my girl.

You've got 2,847 miles

between your town

and mine

Two highways and

2,847 miles

Yet I'm stuck in

second and third thoughts

and I can't remember

to take the time off work

I was mad when

you missed my party

and I was crushed when

you missed my birthday

Then, I didn't even

write you a poem this year

Is this really over?

Are we premature

or do we get to live out

our three years?

Three years, right?

Right.

I'm sorry I left you for him.

I'm so fucking sorry.

I never meant for this

to happen.

It just

did.

And now we don't even talk anymore.

I wonder where you are,

how you are,

what you've come to.

I picture you happy.

Five bedrooms.

A real go at love.

Not our kind of love.

Something good for you.

Something realistic,

not just real.

And he loves you,

I know he loves you.

I saw it in his eyes

in the way he touched you.

He's just a boy,

but he can learn

and he can love the force of you

all of you.

I always did

but never could

and now you've become

the girl that used to be mine.

But you'll always be

my girl.

In case you think I haven't been writing...

You're wrong. I just haven't been posting. Or something like that.

So here are two relics I just dug out of the vaults. I have no idea when they were written. I have no idea where they came from. Frankly, I don't even know if I wrote them; or who wrote them. Enjoy.

-----

sometimes I am eloquent after cereal

if we didn't have letters
from lovers past
to bring tears to our eyes
you know we'd never cry

and our hearts would close up
and we would become cruel,
and get away
with every awful thing we did


---


Why is it
my dear
you are everything
and everywhere

in my days
and in my dreams
I find you stitched
into my seams

you're in my fingers
beneath my skin
I leech you out
bleed myself again

but in my days
and in my dreams
I find you stitched
into my seams.


The more I read into these the less I think I wrote them. Please come forward if they belong to you. I find them potent enough to post them without intention.

Thank you.

A Road Love Lullaby 090110

Slide through the light

ignite the hairs

of your underbelly

on my dreaming smile

I'm lost for you.

You are bubble love

pulled taunt

through strings in the air

lengths of my hair

Bass pounding the beaches

of the entire planet.

We will drive them all

Tomorrow

I will breathe fog from my breast

and you will sleep

upon the cold morning ground

The broken salt of sand

a million grains painting

with hazy eyes- distracted

by the drifting of your ocean

I will swim and you will take photographs.

You will drive as I sleep on your shoulder.

I'll feed you the horizon in California

the Earth itself in Oregon

and the stars back home

in Washington.

They will pass

one by two

from my parted hands

through your open mouth

and I will alternate kisses

until your dreams overflow

But you'll never

be full.

1,2oo rolling miles

and my hand will never fill

of yours

for we are the perfect fit.

I never knew I was missing

until your pieces fell with mine

and now- I will only be whole

beside you.