will meet in public, share a drink and annex
talk with punctuated pointings of their specs
the conversation may be staid or complex
there may even be snarls, snags, barbs, bumps that vex
but between them lies ties and goals: no vortex.
Emotions range, some needing many kleenex.
No matter what the world throws them to perplex
they work at it and it’s good soon or in weeks.
How does marriage of individuals flex
so that they don’t fly off as separate ex?
As specified, they work! There’s no love codex
to multiplex the simplex to high apex.
No snake oil from some slick slimeball guy named Tex.
Nothing majestical or magicky from Rex.
No uniting you with rings by pontifex.
Love is work, believe it. Don’t trust a telex.
Abalone’s sweet honey
left him so lonely.
Hey, you’d say, okay
that’s his own fault straightaway
but why leave Taipei?
Bessie left glassy
his eyes for Tallahassee
fancy and sexy.
But that hoy polloi
weren’t nothing like our boy. Oi!
How coy to annoy.
As their time apart
cold sores darted his sad heart.
But callus impart
strength to the length nth
and now G plays a wavelength
of warmth, synth and depth.
see him now a refiner.
column meaning constrained rows
lends order to life
slow from the material
as we age grateful
The clock radio
was ruder than usual this morning
that’s saying something
it was some
pop song with
what could be more normal?
But the words
that came along for that uni-directional ride were
about how he might not be her knight
or go see her mother
or bring her flowers
he was willing to be the one that night
ain’t that sweet
and so big of him
The sheer lack of
for her willingness for—
for his own ability to sustain—
a caring and real connection
lead, possibly, to
all of a perfect half hour hook up
but what then?
I eat dinner
at the kitchen table.
Or watching a movie.
Or standing up.
And I enjoy that.
If I think of it
You can’t eat romance
and flowers are probably poisoned
by some pesticide.
Candles put out CO2.
(But I dabble in all of those from time to time.)
You could say this
of our relationship
is old hat, needs new life, lack a certain pizzazz.
We’ve grown and achieved
That’s all in the past
but they’ve marked us
with their stamp.
And we live on
perhaps to create
what remains unmarked
We do our own
make something better
if we can
but enjoy the
at the kitchen table
or living room
or standing up.
-this is a response to the song “I Eat Dinner (When The Hunger’s Gone)” words and music by Kate McGarrigle which was done so beautifully on the album Heartbeats Accelerating and by (Kate’s son) Rufus Wainwright and Dido. I love listening to this sad song but, usually, the lyrics just don’t apply to me. Romance is only part of a relationship to me.