SMALL TALK

Though you complain of my reticence,
I shall rather not discuss my life,
Which revolves around your memories
In ways that you would not approve.

Let there be talk of ailments and ill-weather
Sandwiched between hellos and goodbyes.
At least, there shall be no need
To resort to a subterfuge of silence.

Remembering the ninth year of the millennium

My mornings’ glory, my evenings’ nest,

You were my mooring in life’s unrest.

(But let us agree it was not love, if that is what makes you feel good: we never even had a song for us.)

Now all that I have must seem enough

For nothing more can be had.

On a stained pink bed-cloth lies tarnished,

Freezing, frozen Silver.

DELUGE

It continues to rain here, 

And all is soggy,

Clammy,

Muggy.

A damp delirium

Punctuated with Wittgensteinian yawns.

In centuries like these

My petite ponderings seek refuge

In damp margins

Of university notebooks

Shoved under dorm pillows.

WANDERING 'WONDERINGS'

If ever a morning, lost, finds its way

From the gutters of my dreams,

Through the wasted gargoyles

Of your downtown church,

To your quizzical frown,

Would you wish it well?

Would you take him home?

Dear R

I was naïve, thinking

Someday I shall accomplish

Loving you no more.

Is it foolish to

Love, when one is aware of

no hope, no hope, none?

Yes, I am a fool.

I continue loving you,

Always and forever

May you find love, true,

Wherever you desire.

Happiness and peace.