6b2 -------------------------------- you two are the feel of the air on a cool night resting upon oak trees of the radiating warmth of yesterday's styrofoam cup filled with fresh coffee before a drive you're the pink bands in the early night sky you're the moon that blends into the broad light blue dusk you're lunch with a friend you're a greeting from a stranger you're the microbes in the soil after it rains you're the sun in the morning that wakes me up like a hand running through my hair you make me happy and safe and warm

bunk bed -------------------------------- there's a cat in the wall in a good way and I just climbed into bed and there's a frog with his belly pressing against the glass and I sat around with new friends

mixed signals -------------------------------- birds as forms in the distance something in the leafless tree in the cove walking between the piers blue jeans in a pile by where he stands and a heron standing out there climbing clumsily down to the surface of the water in my underwear hanging onto the steel bars of the dock slipping against algae on the plastic encouraging him to drop in, to slip in finally lowers down the muscles in my arm unwinding free my body slipping turning breathing he and i or just two forms, us or them language fails or a personal failing held in the cold water last glow of sun fades from the sky walking home, out of breath, mixed signals

lake -------------------------------- warmth in the cold lake nothing but my arms to rely upon i might have drowned boys in lakes, calls from trains, boston planes

the responsible human todo list -------------------------------- not a poem just shit I have to do lol call a tailor call the district court of bumfuck nowhere missouri ok maybe this is a poem call about haircuts visit people

city trees -------------------------------- I read an article about the pulse nightclub shooting again though I knew it wasn't what I needed wasn't good for me it said that was five years ago five years ago I was seeing someone and nobody knew five years ago I was looking for a book or something to get him five years ago I'd sit with him talk with him five years ago I was thinking about city trees worming up through uneven pavement five years ago fourty-nine people were shot to death in a nightclub

memoriam -------------------------------- You feel like the sun feels on my neck like the kayak feels against the lake like a blanket after a long day like fireworks from the freeway

butterflies -------------------------------- whoooosh!

slanted verbage not my best -------------------------------- I wish there were words to describe male beauty that didn't feel like substitutes. you're the plants on our porch you're the cat in the window you're the sunrise over the lake from the car on the bridge you're not a twink or a twunk or a cub or a bear you're warm light through a sunroof cold air on a spring morning side hugs, smiles, leaves of grass

chest -------------------------------- the warmth of his chest the security of his embrace the smile on his face the muscles in his back the drape of his shirt the nape of his neck

sweater -------------------------------- I really like your watch face and your sweater not that watch, your watch not that sweater, your sweater and by the way, I really like seeing you again being next to you again laughing with you again talking again

summer -------------------------------- love that invites a discus love that excites a river love that forms flowered crowns before the wind blows or the currents drive or the monsters threaten I might kiss you three hundred thousand times, and never be sated where reeds grow where hyacinths bloom where chaplets originate where plato keeps to politics we two boys together clinging we two boys together clinging

drowned -------------------------------- Hephaestion's ashes reached Babylon Hyacinth fell Antinous drowned

phone calls -------------------------------- i called the cops because you told me that you didn't want to live anymore. i never showed them your note. i called someone because you took too many pills and said that you didn't want to live anymore. i texted you saying that i didn't want to live anymore. you didn't call anybody.

washcloth -------------------------------- i hate the yellow washcloth in your dresser drawer with the blood stains and the razorblade.

intervals -------------------------------- i though about not writing poems anymore and it's been awhile feeling like they were too self-referential too confused by imagined audiences and they weren't good anyway but this one is for him met briefly in winter, connected i feel lightheaded and i didn't smoke at all and he's leaving town in a few days sleep tight ~

peace -------------------------------- wandering cities when shapes rose up and took me over covered in clover - hyacinths and daisies patroclus holds achilles to a cousin underground dona nobis pacem 🌱