.

Love took its good old sweet time finding me
It’s not like I was hiding,
disguised as some overbearing second helping,
lollygagging behind picket signs and leftover *** roast
I thought I was okay, not a bad catch,
I’m sure one many would have tossed back,
but not all of them…right?

But days passed, calendar pages torn and shredded
One after the other, odd numbers, even numbers,
hell even holidays, ripped from their colorful covers
showing a quaint covered bridge in Vermont
or a beautiful ocean scene on the west coast
and still I sat alone, ready to give up

Then…well, you have read my poetry,
at least I think you have, some of you did right?
So (if you did) you know what happened next
and it is wonderful, still hard to believe,
this feeling of total happiness is new to me
It felt weird at first, why was I smiling so much,
what’s with the butterflies in my stomach,
why the hell could I not wait to get out of bed every day
I must be dreaming (you know me, I’m always dreaming)

But it is real and I feel alive,
like life matters, everything matters,
the sun is brighter, the skies are bluer
No longer the small fish in the big pond
just hoping for a mosquito to land on the surface
or searching for a lily pad to escape the light,
now I swim excitedly every day into her arms

Love took its good old sweet time finding me
and I am glad I waited

Messengers bring me no messages,
teachers do not raise your voices,
like a flag I will raise my hand, like
a mad dog looking up on a hill
in the afternoon, I will smell you out
in the dead water where my tongue
is held captive, if it is to be silent
it will be silent in my mouth
where darkness and the scent of roses
come out like smoke, I smoke alone
in the woods to be smoking
so I can say I have smoked,
I call out madam
shall I undress you for a fight,
the wars are naked that you wage tonight
in a bed as broad as a battlefield
as the sword you mock the fallen with
and the angel says what is dead is
dead, I dream what I dream.

Heaved aboard-
lay flat on your back
on swabbed and
polished deckboards
and watch the white
sails fill

As we sail into dawn,
red and yellow banners
counter intuitive,
streaming ahead of our
godspeed.

Unwrecked,
rescued,
lifted from fossil sea

Powered by wind
to cut wine-dark waters
homeward
bound roped and rigged

And freedomed