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
other people’s problems
how am I harmed
by caged children
sleeping on floors?
how am I affected
by coal miners
ordered to dig more
while koalas burn?
how am I bothered
by the mother detained
at the airport
once the rules changed?
how am I inconvenienced
by the grandmother
cast off the voter rolls?
how am I troubled
by the appointed agency head
whose goal is
to dismantle the agency?
how am I damaged
by a man who grabs women
and gets elected
then appoints men who grab women
to be judges in the courts
where men who grab women
get off?
how am I diminished
when one boss
earns in one minute
more than three times
what a worker makes in a year?
and now that boss will keep more
while the workers keep less?
these are other people’s problems
not mine
my only worry is
I’m losing my humanity
a poet paying taxes
it’s time to add up every pen and pencil
notebook business card visor
from the last year
what did I use to make what I made?
then I’ll pay my town their tiny portion
I don’t mind the tithe –
it’s the terrible reckoning,
weighing what little went in versus out,
reading the silent critical subtext
embedded in the unassailably impartial numbers;
it’s the unflattering appraisal
of the value of my time
here –
that’s what I’m avoiding tonight
wrapped in a wool blanket
with the laptop decidedly closed
maybe tomorrow I’ll have the strength
to add the columns up
or rather
subtract what it all cost me
home
a place we unpack
where there’s more than one key
and these strangers may be neighbors
there’s a rhythm and a knowing
of what comes next
at the grocery store
we can buy family-sized food
and next week’s events
on the notice board mean something
it’s a place to hang up our packs
for a spell
and dream about the same vista
for more than one night
