A little something...

I've been trying to do some songwriting but I get distracted by poems that don't want to complete themselves, like Golden Gate Bridge suicides.

Kitchen
after Frida Kahlo

Refrigerators envy me
for my ability to preserve passion
and serve it chilled,
proper on its plate, a lime slice neighbor
best hinted at, rather than thrust
burning onto the tongue.

Stoves envy me
for my ability to cook at the precise degree
and never let pink the pain,
unless someone feasts too early,
nor blacken its meat
when they forget to turn me off.

I envy the sink for its relief
at being emptied and attended to
when looking its worst.

I'm also on a huge Laura Marling kick at the moment:


But then I get distracted again.

Farm kitten

A year or two after the divorce,
living with my dad in the officer’s neighborhood
of Aberdeen Proving Grounds,
he brought home a farm kitten.
A black coat and white fur underwear
And eyes that feared shadows
And paper bags.
She would sleep at my feet, my blankets thin
(my father next door, my brother a yard away),
and play catch with my toes
and her claws.
6 ft high in the bunk bed, I tossed her
like a Molotov cocktail
believing she would ignite the anger
I dared not on my mother.
She would shake and climb again
the slight wooden frame
that was my fort above the unlawful world.

And I would think of my mother
coming home from the vet clinic
where she volunteered,
taking soft steps towards the closet,
peeling open the fake bamboo shutters,
and pouring the oval package meats
of cat-square bits and hard dog crumbs
into the dishes.
After stroking their fur,
she would smirk at my brother and I, slide
the can-opener towards our small monkey thumbs,
and gesture at the cabinet.
She thought we were smarter than our pets
And, thus, deserving of less pity.

My farm kitten nestles between my covered
calves and waits for a twinge of toes.

Before she ran away into the artillery hills
0f rundown Russian tanks and leaking condiment gas,
I began to wear heavy blankets
even during the summer.

I had more to fear from winter
Than any fire.