(For TR, BB, & L)
.
Today I screamed
for fear
it has been so long since
I have heard a cricket
and I have never been given
flowers on Valentine’s Day.
My birthdays pass.
We used to be four
living hard on long tethers,
catastrophically heaving in
expanding universes,
mouthing off and
fucking with boys’ brains and
loving their hearts
and eating ourselves alive.
We are now sparse
and exactly four directions,
only air between.
.
Today I screamed for fear
it has been so long since
I have watched an evening age
in silence and I have never
ridden a motorcycle without a helmet.
I have never
received a love letter from a man I love.
We used to carry three guitars
and Black Velvet bottles, wore
fedoras, Vasque boots
and smoked like gypsies
tripping on each others’ feet
and ubiquitous hilarity,
cursing in three languages
just to watch the moon rise.
The boys came and were afraid.
We used to heave the earth,
quake tremors pulsing through confinement.
Now we seep and trickle.
Now we test waters with a heel
holding a man’s hand,
suspicious that we need him.
We whisper through the
telephone receivers
to each other.
.
Today I screamed
for fear
it has been so long since
I have led a man’s hand
and I have never seen the monarchs
migration route.
My birthdays pass.
We four cudgeled chastity,
fervently exuberant still
we were only miserable
abundance trapped,
believing in the control of
climate by travel.
We thought love was effortless.
Now we are dense as
salt water
and deeper than oceans
of earth.
Now we will each seek the sound of crickets
and admit our fears,
gratefully letting them hold
our hands.
.
We are sparse
and exactly four directions,
only evening air between.
orphan poems 