Poetry as a view into a moment
When I write poetry, once the words are out of me on a page (or screen) I feel differently. The words sculpt my nebulous feelings into a concrete form, then I look at them. Frequently I feel differently after the words are out there, but those words had power for me, so I like to keep them, although perhaps what seemed true in the moment may no longer be true. By observing emotions I change them, a quantum conundrum.
Because you pay the bills
No easy way to say:
Food on the table
Hot water in the shower
Fortunate to be with you.
Concerned with frivolous minutiae and no job.
Needn't be self-sufficient.
No worry about ending up on the street.
Behavior I should call you on,
When you are not there emotionally.
You are taking care of me.
I'd make it on my own if I had to.
Not visiting my family as often as I would like.
People ask what I do for a living.
Because you pay the bills...
My quiet frustrations get lost in games,
writings and fantasies.
I stop asking myself if you really want me here.
I ask you if what I do is ok.
Depression and worry imply
Frustration as you search for a new job.
You wonder if I care or just freeload.
Judgments about money from our friends.
Going slowly insane,
Isolating myself from others,
I imitate your isolation.
An elephant dwells in our small living room
And I may have to leave,
Because you pay the bills.
The enigmatic Midwest beckons me.
We walked the streets of Zurich and Amsterdam,
Prague, Istanbul, Copenhagen, Paris
And slept together for years.
Grateful for the past,
But longing for cold nowheresville,
I wonder about the time
My parents have left.
A youth at age 30,
I gave you my heart,
my body and the last five years.
You paid the bills.
