I remember

my mother

attempting to cultivate interest

In all things green.

I remember trekking

through woods

searching for

dry land fish

or rare wild flowers

with heavy feet and

long dramatic sighs

sitting on rotting logs

as chiggers and ticks

Made me host.

I remember planting a ring

around a bird bath

but losing the interest

and dedication

to water

or weed

And eventually just forgot.

I've killed a cactus.

Not once.

But twice.

After promises that it was

Virtually impossible.

But I'm trying.

The birthday daisies

Aren't dead yet.

And the tomatoes I got

just this week

aren't lonely

or sad a

Or soft yet.

Just need a new bed

To rest their roots.

I'm trying to fertilize

this black thumb of death

into something more productive

now that I have a few more rings

On my own trunk.

Accident

Every time I see lights turning red

I resist the temptation to

speed on through,

hoping that maybe

some unobservant driver

in a hurry

speeds off the line.

As I sit patiently

waiting my turn,

I watch my tiny fiberglass bubble

skidding across the intersection,

wrapping itself around

the steel grill

of some old indestructible carriage,

heavy with time.

I can almost hear

the sound of my own head

smacking against the window,

feel the warm red stickiness

bleeding into my vision.

Its hard not to tempt fate.

Driving fast on those

dark roller coaster rural roads.

Especially in Fall.

Knowing somewhere there is a

many pointed buck

leading his lady across the road.

I find myself wishing to see

the proverbial

"deer in the headlights."

I can almost sense my muscles reacting,

the surge of adrenaline,

swerving at the last second.

A second too late.

I can hear the tires squealing

in protest

against the change of inertia.

Centrifugal force

pinning me to my seat

to watch with

anticipating gleeful horror

an antler or maybe a tree branch

shatter through the windshield.

But I drive on wondering,

what its like

gasping for air

through a punctured windpipe

and choking on your own blood

when no one is around.

Is a mind like this

still under warranty?

My car may have full coverage

but my body does not.

Unless you count a body bag.

Language Barrier

We sit in silence,

me only slightly uncomfortable,

in the palatable air.

Because what do you say

to someone

when you hate small talk,

and that someone's presence

in your life only adds up

to less than a year?

Less than a month.

Maybe less than the hours in the week or

your number of yearbook photos?

Sometimes silence is better

than trying to decipher

broken english,

or staring blankly as they

babble on in native tongues

more eloquent than my own.

Neither of us really trying

to understand the other

because it will be years

or maybe just months

before we meet again.

This silence is golden,

the only unilingual here,

and everyone speaks it

but not frequently,

awkwardly,

and it only softly says

"I'm sorry."

If these walls could talk

would they tell me of the tears

shed from my absence?

Of the longing families feel

for lost daughters?

Would I even be able to understand?

or only nod acknowledgment in

with appropriately cued inflection?

Bees

evil insects
necessary of botany
you haunt my dreams still
even though unwarranted
since we rarely had a run in
or should I say sting in
I remember that time
running barefoot through the yard
just trying to help my grandmother
by taking out the trash
early summer heat drew you out
for sweet dandelions.
I probably hurt you more
considering my country feet
were your death sentence
I tried hard not to cry
as i dumped a bag as large myself
and hobbled back to my grandpa's lap
so he could spit out a
warm wad of his favorite tobacco
to waste between my toes

Or how bout that time you got my cousin?
I was a bit older
grimaced at her shrill shriek from the pool
I remember the bittersweet slime
streaking my teeth
grinning at my mother
who dared me to chew this time
someone had to take the sting out

but your innocent accidents
aren't what haunt me
but your ducking and dodging
and the promises from my father
that you wouldn't attack
as i stood paralyzed on our porch
petrified, holding my breath
eyes squeezed shut
trying to find some little bit of courage
to sprint off the porch
past those large swinging archs
where every now and then
you would pause
to hover right in my face
almost as if taunting
I wanted to smack you right from the air
but could never over come
the fear of your fury

I know now you don't even have a stinger.

Elizabeth keeps her words in the rain

Dark clouds on the horizon
some say a storm is brewin'
though you couldn't tell
from the the dust dancin' round
this barren ground
despite desperate choreography
from the natives

its been years since this land
was wet from her kiss
spent years surviving
in the silence of her skin

Honesty is in the air
hangs thick like summer humidity
wind 's pickin' up
runs over through around
those cactus thorns
like an old lover's tongue

Elizabeth keeps her words in the rain
bare feet pound out rhythms
not knowing what they're asking for
fingers wiggle at the sun
beggin' for poetry

be careful what you ask for
they say when it rains it pours.

infectious happiness

Your lips hold serenades
a tongue heavy and wet with poetry
and teeth so perfect true
that no lie would ever dare fall from them

wonder gets written across my pores
with every exposure
my flushed complexion in danger
you should never be allowed to be unhappy

your smile is infectious
lights up my day
in every conceivable cliche
i feel it spread across my face
with no immunity

it adds years to my life
that worry and
stress and cigarettes
were determined to steal from me

fights off global warming
cures AIDS
gives angels wings
that smile saves lives

Hang your high heads,
heavy with the weight of your life,
hair gone gray from stress.
Is it in shame or prayer?
Tears drip down
cold on my skin,
matting my hair.
I look away,
afraid to see you
break under pressure.

Your fingers curl
brittle with seasonal arthritis.
You're still young yet,
but i hear your bones
moaning,
your joints stretching,
cracking,
and I fear for your life
and mine alike.