Home (poem)

I chose to write it all
down, the modern equivalent
of etches in stone, my words sent
across a wireless net. Like a web,
oh what one we weave, I laid
each letter like a brick until
they became a house big enough
to hold our story. I opened the door.
I invited you in. Look and see
what adorns the walls.
You chose to stay on the porch
and said you are not interested
in discussing this blueprint. So what
do I do with this massive construction?
I will find a way to live inside
these paragraphs, these syllables,
because I know they are my home,
even as you pack up and leave.

Dream Analysis 101 (poem)

On the way there,
I sat in the back seat
of your car and we didn't speak
until we got to the party.
But still we stayed away
from each other until I stood
above the sink to wash
some dishes. Then you came
and stood as close to me as you could.
Even then, we remained silent
until we looked at each other
and you turned to walk away.
"Hey," I said. "Are we going to talk
about what I wrote?" You smiled
in a smirking-knowing way and said, "No."
I said, "Oh," and you left me alone.
Later, I climbed into the driver's seat
in a different car and you sat
in the uncomfortable middle and seemed angry
as I drove us towards the next stop
in our journey. I got lost for a moment
but found my way again without your help
and we arrived where we needed to be
unharmed. Out of the car, we headed in
through different doors.