museless
I don’t have a muse
someone outside this realm
who whispers words to me
even so
sometimes my antennae go up
and quiver saying
right now the universe
is ready to reveal something
if only I stop
and leave myself at least as open
sometimes I feel a little lonesome
with no otherworldly guide
only this exceedingly wonderful
boatload of beings
each pointing a way
in fallible tones
not possibly conflated
with the certainty of madness
the specific sadness of my father’s legs laid bare
my father’s legs
bent together knees left
wasted bony
too long to lie straight
in the hospital bed
shins covered with claret bruises
his feet in blue protective booties
heels hidden by white dressings
his skin too thin
to take all the lying around
after visiting hours
my sister and I
apply pressure to
our own open wounds
with a bottle of red
manners
in Puerto Varas
nonstop dogs and parakeets
all day/night long
until the moment I close my eyes
then mercifully
they all go quiet simultaneously
and I hear nothing more –
one more miracle
of a brain that knows
when I’ve had enough,
lies to my body to just bring rest –
until the instant my lids open to sun
when the whole rough chorus
sings the day awake
on not changing
i
I love it all
even the way
I can’t say no
ii
buckets full
overflowing even
some spills over
does everyone good
iii
some days
there’s even more patience
than the day demands –
that’s when we laugh
3 Valentines
i
here where the choice of words
feels so weighted
tú vs. usted
ser vs. estar
every sentence revealing
one’s innermost thoughts
about where things stand
I say today and tomorrow and tomorrow
tú y yo
somos
enamorados
ii
you don’t need to
say you’re sorry
only accept
the warm fuzzy love
and bright grapefruit-pink joy
I hold out in both hands
for you
iii
I’ve never been disappointed
by what’s inside
your oh-so-deep
kind well of
patient and giving heart
memory/reboot/presence
every day
I walk around
trying to remember
to hit save
but sometimes
I feel
the green grass
just wants me
to press against it
mindlessly
culture, one word at a time / cultura, una palabra a la vez
here we learn
of a blue
that is not blue
calling the sky-blue
celeste azul
would be like
mistaking pink
for red
this celestial blue
stands apart
not of this world
but here also there is no space
between heaven and sky
son iguales
ciel
no boundary between the seen and unseen
between life as we know it
and faith in more
*
aquí aprendemos
de un azul
eso no es azul
llamando al cielo azul
celeste azul
seria como
rosa equivocado
para rojo
este azul celestial
se destaca
no de este mundo
pero aquí tampoco hay espacio
entre el cielo y el cielo
son iguales
ciel
sin límite entre lo visible y lo invisible
entre la vida tal como la conocemos
y fe en más
garbled
I remember a time
I could run my finger across your forehead
and set things right
now I gush mouthfuls of words
that hold no comfort
and I fear your heart is moving away
outside mine
but after midnight, it’s just us awake
and in the stillness
you tell me a story we both understand
about unfounded fear
and losing parts of oneself
and then we know
in the dark together
we are truly loved well
whatever we might say
however we might fail
