Thanksgiving

That night you lit the candles in the rowboat, the woodfires were burning all around us. 

But you didn't care when the spray hit the flame, and the steam made us choke, and the bodies floated out of the mud.

And you're standing there, looking like 1965, silk blouse, pleated skirt. Hands folded. Eyes so hopeful.

And you're older than Buddha, but you're not yet sixteen. And you're untouched on some cold windy highland.

And I'm glad you still live here, but I still wish you'd left. Your husband was one of my idols.

And now it's Thanksgiving when people go home, if they still have a home to go home to.

So I guess I'll just love you, and hope it works out,'cos if not, ...eh!Th

Might Be The Start Of A Country Western Song

Your fingernails are all torn up

from shredding on your twelve string,

from tearing at your coffin lid,

from raking down my face.

Your eyes are dirty dark black holes,

your heart is cold and quiet,

it's all so full of grave dust,

but I can't stop loving you.

One Night In November

One night she came to me and said, "My name is Juliet. You want to worship me, don't you?

And I hated her for asking, so I told her to leave and not bother me again.

But I knew I couldn't fool her with that. She knew me way too well.

I remember that summer in Verona. The heat, the flies, the mosquitos, the friction of your blade on my throat.

The beautiful friction of your teeth on my throat....

And now I'm dying in your grave, my blade in your breast. Or is it the other way around?

If it is, please make it quick!

Day of the Dead, and the clocks turn back

The dead went back to their home tonight, glowing from candles, from photos, from favorite dinners, from calaveras. They came and helped fill the holes in our hearts that they left, when they left....

I know I'm antisocial, misanthropic. And that applies to the dead as well as the living. There are only three dead whom I really love. My grandmother, my aunt Margie, and Emily. Two of them made me what I am, the third loves me for that. 

Last night I lit candles on my altar for them. My buddha looked so good, surrounded by those flames. I laid out their favorite foods too. For Nana and Margie it was cups of tea. They both loved it so much! (Though Nana used to laugh when Margie made the tea. Far as she was concerned, if you could see the bottom of the cup it was too weak. She used to say, "That's not tea, it's dishwater!)

But for Emily it had to be ice cream. LOL no one in all history has ever loved ice cream the way she does.  Tonight it was green tea flavor, dotted with green grapes that I bought from FoodKick this morning.

And she's reading over my shoulder as I type this, and she's laughing. Her smile, her laugh, makes me feel like this whole universe might just be worthwhile. She's wearing brown corduroy jeans and an oversize green sweatshirt. Her ponytail is draped over her right shoulder, her tortoise shell glasses make her brown eyes look even bigger than they are.

I'm a lucky man!

Thank you, Nana, for teaching me how to forgive. Thank you Margie, for teaching me how to move on.  Thank you Emily, for showing me the joy in this universe. Gonna hug you so tight when we fall asleep tonight!

The clocks fall back at 2am. Who cares?