paen

I just got a poem in the mail that rhymed an'all
a real poetess at work, some scratch mind honey-bunch
sweet little thing, a blue-eyed mistress of quirk
and it brought me my deep seat out loud
a hunch sob from a heat place, the cough and cry of oh and I
a perfect syncro of you.
So now that that's the distance to here, oh yes,
keep em coming, I say
and I for my sins will return this tin thing
and ask where is Wally today.

#okayineedtocomebacknow

You're sleeping, I hope, tucked up in the that farwayarchway place we shared
I've not the means to say how but reaching back on a straight-edged bookshelf
I came to you, through New York New York and that one Mumford on a deck,
losing a coat (ah the rants) but finding you, that's the greatest trade ever
so how facing a slick run of river, some whipper-snipper growling out the distance
can i seek and say, I'm with you, there, tonight my sweet

this time round

there's a side-swipe world on the other
and the sides I've taken aren't you -
I can stare at two rivers all I want and not
find an outline of your hair or in the sky
a limit like your eyes but as I feel here, the
old world seeping, bubbling up slick and sodden
drowned papers wrung out and blow-dried till
they say what I suspected
I miss you and miss you and miss you