it's great to be here.
i always say it's not
and i never feel like it is.
but its great to be here.

everything ive ever loved is here
in the meadow,
swanning for all of us.
singing our names.

i focus so much on the cold
i forget july
i forget august.

its great to be here
its always great to be here.

i burnt the roast on christmas day.

my loves sat in silent pain
waiting for my neck to crane.
summers night and winters rain
couldn't cook this ******* roast again

i cant believe i burned the ******* roast.

each of them had different reasons
to feel so **** upset this season
it never felt right to believe in
love that can feel so uneven

ive cooked this ******* roast before i dont know how i ****** it up so bad

these seconds will never pass
table breaks the hourglass
my wife she's a lovely lass
why didnt she cook the ******* roast instead

**** **** **** **** **** ****

a look of sadness on my face
anxious forks hit sides of plates
i look to my loves and say
im not sure there'll be roast today

how could you burn the ******* roast on christmas?

the wine was almost nearly empty
most of it from my aunt wendy
whose husband left when she was twenty
but she brought some new man lenny

who also drank most of the wine
and was also upset that i burned the ******* roast

i didnt drive all the way out here
just to drink a couple beer
i know it may not be premiere
but bring that ******* roast out dear

okay mom.

i went back to the kitchen to get the burnt ******* roast

i found my wife her head ashake
frowning down to my dismay
you burnt the roast on christmas day
we'll find the love in your mistake

she kissed me
i tasted the roast and it wasnt that bad

i mean, it was pretty bad
but it was still there.

all those chairs, a different person
neither in their finest version
let my love be a diversion
**** you from your introversion

i burnt the roast on christmas day
lets find the love in our mistakes

there is more than one type of cold.
there’s the cold from that winter wind
it blows through the window
with the hole in it and it sneaks around
the curtains and comes up
through the floor
there’s the cold during the summer
when it’s ninety degrees in the shade
and you turn on the a/c in the car
and it numbs your fingers
and the backs of your arms
there’s the cold when you’re sick
and ten blankets couldn’t reach the chill
that’s made its way inside
and your eyelids feel the fever drifting
there’s the cold that arrives when you’re scared
when you’re nervous
it nestles just under the skin
and you’re losing feeling in your fingers
there is more than one type of cold
but you’re the only one
that ever made me freeze.

i've written and posted
seventy three poems
on this website for the sake of you
and for the sake of my own safe keeping.
this makes seventy four.
seventy four poems that i've written
and still i don't think
i ever really
said
anything at all.