24.08.2023

I'm a natural sceptic, but right now, I'm a heartbroken sceptic in search of something— ANYTHING to make me feel connected to my Carrie, and so when today, in the middle of my living room, this candy wrapper fell, seemingly from the ceiling, it felt like a sign. Carrie used to buy these for us every year, because she loved white chocolate, and I loved Reese's, especially the holiday editions.  (Better chocolate to peanut butter ratio in my opinion.)

And so, for a moment or two, I'll push aside my scepticism, and enjoy what really may be no more than the serendipity of a messy, cluttered apartment in dire need of cleaning, and a recently repositioned fan. 

Except...

That's not really how it happened, is it?  No, but the truth is far less magical, and we all love a good story, so I won't tell you the truth, about how the thing that actually fluttered to the living room floor was a crumpled, twisted receipt from Duane Reade that had likely been sitting on the sideboard, and that the candy wrapper was introduced when it stuck to my bare foot as I walked over the detritus that's still thick on the floor on my love's side of the bed where I hardly ever go, because I'm afraid to disturb any more remnants of her presence in this apartment, but it's dark and cloudy outside, and I needed to turn on her lamp.  

I won't tell you any of that, because it's sad. And we all like a good story.  Something to cling to in an unstable world. 

And so, we'll stick with the story that the special wrapper, with the ghost on it was conveniently positioned on some high shelf, perfect for my love to send fluttering to my feet, just to let me know she's still here.

18.08.2023

 Fallen leaves

Dessicated in the 

Late Autumn's cold winds

Crumble to nothing

They crumble so easily. 

04.08.2023

I've been tempted to check on my ticket

To hold it in my hands

Take stock of my inventory

But a body in motion tends to stay in motion

Unless acted upon by an equal 

And opposite force

Something I'm severely 

Lacking at the moment

"She's got a ticket to ride

She's got a ticket to riii-hiii-hiiide

She's got a ticket to ride.."

But unfortunately 

She still cares.

03.08.2023

I envy the wild orchid

And wish I too 

Might bloom for six to ten weeks

then lose 

My head, and quiet- like a stone, lie 

Dormant in my bed

Of cool, soft loam

To bloom again

and begin anew

When the days are agreeable

And the cold skies 

blue.

17.04.2014

An old piece I wrote many years ago. 

.....

G

You were

snail paced walks round the

Botanical Gardens, 

creeping cacti and 

     alien orchids–

unlikely as painted plastic

You were

Intimate coffees 

on Broadway 

& on 9th Street

Trepidation and excitement at the thought you might touch my arm

You were 

a thoughtful gift 

from Trader Joe's:

chocolate covered potato chips I'd once proclaimed should be covered by Obamacare 

But you were also 

A party-size, blue bag of

Cool Ranch Doritos

eaten numbly 

by the handful,

Stuffing down hurt as I

Stuffed them down my throat,  

in my car, parked on Park Avenue South

and

You were 

my regret:

a failed test for my 

fledgling boundaries

and a mistake from which 

I'll do my best not to learn.