I found you, in a stack of photos:
the 2D you, I can't touch, taste or smell

the first thing that came to mind was sharing a joint with you and spilling the chocolate ice cream cone on your skin-******* shorts

and sneaking into the Woolworth bathroom, and our freaked frenzied scrubbing of fabric with nimble fingers and pink powdered hand soap

and how we couldn't stop laughing
until a woman older than time caught us
before we could consummate

which we did after running the entire
200 yards to my van, wet white shorts in your hand, with me looking over my shoulder for imagined narcs and other freedom snatchers

when we finished, we shared my last Winston, blowing smoke rings in the gathering gloom

your shorts were dry, and our high
had worn off--you didn't kiss me goodbye when I dropped you off

between your pad and mine,
I hit a black mongrel pup wandering on the dark asphalt

I scooped him off the road
with my hands; lifeless, light he was...

I found you, in that stack of ancient
photos--that was the day we conceived a son, one you had shredded in a doctor's office for $300 in illegal tender

I see the messy ice cream, your naked nineteen year old flesh,  smoke rings disappearing, the poor mutt dying

though not for lack of trying, I can't see the child you had executed in utero--without trial, judge or jury, save an elusive dream
of freedom

Albuquerque, 1967

Though the distance
between the star and the earth
be a thousand light years
I would gladly walk on rough pebbles
till I get to the stars feet.

If heaven were a physical city in some distant land,
I would hold your hands and surmount the mountains between.
If depression were an island in the Pacific,
I would hang you on my shoulder and swim across.
If fun were a drop of water,
I would rain on you showers of memorable moments.

I will take you to the moon
and dance with you on those barren rocks.
We'll visit Mars and stand on Olympus Mons
At night we'll watch the stars
Pitching our tenths in space we would never grow old.

I would rather hold your hands,
than steal your heart.
I just want you to be fine,
Even if you aren't mine.

Sometimes she says the damndest things,
She’s like a bird caught in string,
Funny,
You pause to wonder why,
Then the concern,
Could she strangle and die?
Sometimes I want to give her help,
But nature demands she do it herself,
You can’t deny the evidence,
She has survived the consequence
Yes,
She’s had her share of trouble,
Ties that bind,
Feathers ruffled
Because she lives,
She has to try,
Even a chicken wants to fly
©B L COSTELLO 2018