Winter Finds Misplaced Boyfriend

I’ve been painting with warm pinks and beige yellows since that taxi scurried you away. Far away from the warm fleece blankets we were wrapped up in. You became a small yellow dot in a grey and white city.  I was left cold in a house with wind blasting through a large gap in the wall while the windows were being eaten alive. I almost considered boxing myself in that yellow cab with you, but I’d end up in the wrong place upon arrival to the airport, never mind naked under a red, fleece blanket.

Oh, how you were my fireplace, when I’d stick my toes by you. How do I follow a fire around? You cannot capture it in a briefcase, like you can with money, or your computer. Hugs hold tight and love frees its flame.

I imagined the abstract concept of days like blocks in two weeks worth of stacking. slowly waiting, to stack. And each mocking day is not getting any warmer.

House Keeping Time

Time could be wasted, drunk, poor and unpaid.
Time is spent, folding towels.
Time, counted in spin cycles,
counted in full, knotted garbage bags.

at the hostel, time is
foreign for a four-hour shift.

Love and Bio-Diesel

my mother
my father

are building a room in their house
waiting for when I will fill it.

Our house will be a bio-diesel tank

I will be thrown out vegetable smoothie spilling outta my guts
out that pretty Bistro on Main St.
that pretty pretty Bistro, circulating in and out
pretty pretty girls.

I will smell of kitchen – deep-fryer thickened air
I’ve been marinating in. I am soupy waste oil.

I’ve been at the cold Exit door once before,
but this time, Mom & Daddy’s diesel truck is waiting for me
A tiny little tank for me
for me to grow up in.

when I am one crying cricket
solo, out in a cold, unfriendly field