Between The Floors

Our apartment was rickety and impoverished,
almost like an old Michigan lake house
perched above a block in the City.

The glass in the windows had fallen downwards
over the years
to bend the view of the street below and the
twinkling lights of Manhattan in the distance.
The wood of the frames was rotten.

Below, they cooked greasy Thai noodles and
you could smell sweet curry and grilled eggs
in the afternoon when trying to nap between
orgasms on a Saturday.
Cars always stuttered and honked and
scented everything in charcoal.

Above, on a wooden plank floor painted with
lime latex paint was a cheap twin futon bed
where I had her every night to every morning
from the summer of 2004 to the spring of 2005.

The curves of her body filled my hands like
the moon in the night sky.
I breathed her fertile scent. It lived on my
lips and hands. I would go off to work a
mindless job, she still lived in my nose.
She helped me be mortal and still lives in
my dreams after all this is left for the dead,
the dead between the floors that scatter the
wasted hopes of a city in squalor, coughing on
the honesty of sunrises.

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Between The Panels Of Old Flooring

old wooden floor

In a tee shirt from my old relationship

That is where I am these days

It’s worn, comfortable and cozy

There’s usually silence around me when I wear it

I remember when I first got it

We were moving into a recently renovated “loft” apartment

I had decided my “style” in those days was gonna be
different solid color tee shirts
with different color industrial pants
and earthen-colored New Balance sneakers

She did not approve of my newly discovered fashion sense
and
scoffed at me the day I showed up to sign the lease
wearing this same brown tee shirt
with some red workman’s pants

About 10 minutes after signing the lease
we fucked hard and furiously
on the freshly glossed hardwood floor
of
what would become our bedroom

my semen spilling there between the panels of old flooring

Nice Dresses

These blondes are pretty cute on TV.
They place them in nice dresses.
Nice dresses.
They follow their contours.
You know what it’s like
to be placed in nice dresses
and have your contours followed.
It’s a delicate world of vanity we build.
It helps us in our head.
It’s delicate and tender the touches
in our heart.
All of them are. All of them are.
We build. We build.

You, I and God know
this is what those nice dresses do.
Let’s place more of the blondes and
brunettes like you
in them.
Go down to church, new shopping malls,
svelte automobiles.
Our thinking will be good for teenagers,
millionaires and tycoons.
Our thinking will be good.

Molochs of masculinity.

Messages from New York City.

Silk blouses across breasts.
Steak dinners times ten.

Animal Cracker Vicissitudes

animal crackers

I messed with my animal crackers down by the subway.

Messed with my animal crackers.

In fleeting snow, on melting mornings.

On cold steel rails on the platform.

Days when it came down cold.

And the furnace heat rose from the rooftops.

Gray were my feet, woolen, and dampen too I believe.

Do I believe.

I messed with my animal crackers by the cathedral yards.

Where the ships come in from the ocean.

And rust is a color that dances with day.

Let me carry. Let me carry.

Let me carry this winter away from my blood.

Put the animal crackers into my teeth.

There was a tavern in Alphabet City

where I dreamed of the vicissitudes
that held all these people.

I watched and saw it fall from the sky.

A burning skybird, fallen down into desert.

In the new century, there were only children left

and the start of what the lark calls liberation.

That is why I messed with my animal crackers.

So many years ago.