tub confessions

soapy islands in the tub gather where
my knob-knees peak
like glaciers in a powder scented sea
they remind me of the seasons
growing in number, growing chillier each round
since that afternoon in centennial park
since that night in the wooden chapel

and i agree with emiliana singing
i'd live this life again just to
see you once more before i die

for days at a time my eyes play this mirror game where
i swear i see you in strangers who
sit a row in front of me and a little to the right
while the violinist plays his concerto on
the mahogany stage by the steinway

or in the man who passes by the store window
where i am arranging flowers and chairs
and dresses and shoes

(i let myself hope that it's you)
and despite what i know i just stare and stare
and pretend, my heart beats to the ryhthm
of the piece in 6/8, of the pace of the steps
my eyes strain and fill up like tiny porcelain baths

where i find myself soaking my lonely autumn skin today
imagining that i live in a kind little house with
flower boxes by the cracked and worn shutters
instead of at the top of this mountain where
the thought of you lingers closer than my breath.

welcome back
from the dead
the earthen tomb
dirt in your teeth

the blinding light screams
hallelujah
and
i thought i saw an angel

he held a sword
gold and rubies
so mighty
so mightily he held it
and shouted

Royalty! Royalty! Royalty!

i woke up on the couch.
i heard noises in my head
while
my body lie there paralyzed
still asleep.

i pushed my body with all
my might
so mightily
and it did not move.

i thought i saw an angel
i thought i kicked the table
and the drinks came tumbling
spilling, staining
i open my eyes
and i see the ceiling.