I opened my heart today
Let it dry out in the winter air
Unbeknownst to me
A snowflake
Built upon infinite possibilities
Floated about my heart
Landing in a precious spot
I felt it glisten
In that cold winter air
Tingling sensation to the tips of my toes
Flirting with the edges of a smile
When just as easily
Just as simply as the path of the flake
A teardrop formed
Occupying the folded regions
Of my shaded eye
Drying in the winter’s air
Imagine the shallows of tepid water
Wading through with no regard
And tiny snowblowers buzzing in the background
Reminding you of childhood horrors
In the year of the Rat
With Chinese food at the local diner
Chopsticks and good year fortunes
Like hockey cards and good luck pitchers
Walking two by three down sloppy roads
Three crammed in the back of an ol’ pickup truck
The bumpy way from ice cream to the lookout
With sand banks and long lobs
Exploding in magical madness
Imagine all the broken bike tires
Lost pucks and dead tennis balls
Bounced bald flat basketballs
And the advent of the GameBoy
All within view of this
Tepid water swaying about your
Soaking feet wading through
Mysteries of histories
Love crawled away
And I said safe
Time stretched our touches
And I said delay
Why don’t soldiers of fortune
Get the last wrecking ball
Make last what you love, man
Make last what you love
Perhaps bothered angels
Floated down to touch sin
Leftover madness
Is tomorrow head’n in
Bothered be laughter
Set out in stone
Hallow’d be thy casting stone
Full may its splash be charged
For a while there I was thinking of quitting you
My dirty secret
My dungeon of love
Your united sound log
Your division of hope
I pushed you forth without ever knowing
Then you tossed away the breaking point
And spat it all across the roxy red chairs
Peanuts and gamblers
Standing around
Betting on sure things laid out to waste
Frothing animals with strapping young lads Riding their backs
Challenging each poser who attempts to stretch into the lead
Corners and white rails with grass always green
And a little buggy trailer that spins once around
Chasing some distant smell out in the grains
Smell that fooled no one that came out of the benches
Punching through lost bottles and dribbles of spit
Discarded score cards with random numbers
Little numbers, faint numbers, broken numbers, black numbers
Doors swing wildly here without much aim
Ghosts come and go, lost without a name
And in all the hallways one can hear the distant thunder
Of heels pounding against the ground
I pattered to and fro
Seemingly aimlessly disturbed as I go
But I with the plan
With goals laid upon
Accepting at my feet
I would let you in
To my dashing little plan
Should you reach out and shout
Not on this Thursday, though
To busy in your mind
You washed out my truths
Delayed with confusion
Please, I ask let me go now
I’ll set forth from here
Alone with my bushel
Onwards on my journey
I heard you ever there
Calling loudly
Innocence curling off your lips
And building into frustration
It wasn’t my desire to push you thus far
Your demise denied it evermore
It is beautiful, your waltzes
That have stars spinning on their toes
They catch my breath in sweet meditation
While the ground parts dirt for each step
Legs glistening in moonlight
With ripples of motion and sensual glances
I hear wind whispering kisses in my ear
The same shouted loud from your eyes
I glide to the rhythm of the night
Waltzing along in the shadow of your breath
Clapping my Italian leather heels to your beat
Sending echoes down the lamp-lit street
Off into muffled sounds of laughter
Looking out this plain, water stained window
The night prepares to share it’s darkness
Street lights flick on, awaking evening
Full of buttoned up, hand warming peacoats
Clip-cloping evening shoes dance along ordinary pavement
Where uneven walking paths skirt between neighbouring brownstones
And evergreen shrubs drip with saturation
It’s too bad on evenings like this
With air biting away at exposed skin
That stars don’t shine through overhead clouds
Instead, softening edges and colours into grays
Boutique doors close for the morrows awakening
Freshening vapor
Spray drive-by
Dark clouds
Passion fuels eyes of short haired misfit women
Beautiful woman with desire and reason
Eager looks, united causes, dim lights with red highlights
But way to fucking scared to sit with a man
I, the lonely soldier, with space pants filling my eyes
I, the unlucky winner in a queer bingo show
No worries here though, I’ve got my cameo coming up
Two dames on each arm riding with a free pass for the night
Loud cackling and turned backs with those fucking hip beanies
Plaid 90s South Central styles and dirty looks
Still, I find eyes here
Looks from curious patrons
Turns out not everybody needs to pick a side
We all switch hit from time to time