In the wake of rezoning

on the remains of a bridge
that led to a livelihood long gone
where there is now only rubble,
abandoned trash,
and crooked bricks overgrown with dusty weeds,
like a wild white bird in a cage
a tattered piece of paper fought against the bent face of a fence in the wind
some desperate child
kept from its mother

you tightened your lips
and your thoughts sat still and silent
afraid of how easily you killed your smile

and I looked at your face
staring out the window
saw the hardness set in...

lowered my eyes and found your blouse
opened more than you would have liked
and remembered filling water balloons
how they became heavy in my hand
how I enjoyed holding them

and confessed quite casually
irreverently selfish
when you caught me prying
that i was undressing you with my eyes
aroused by an imagination
careful to stay a few steps ahead of the real thing

the real thing just a bit too bumpy
and hairy, with blemishes
and a sweet musk that
smells like fertile soil
freshly tilled

the crumbs of passion's residue
caking over a quickly fading elation
giving way to the sounds and smells
of urban sprawl
and feelings forgotten in the aftermath

©12.16.17 ebn

What's funny is

What’s funny is
You know I would
If you leaned forward
Just enough
To give me an excuse
To say I didn’t mean to
But it was there
And what else was I supposed to do

Even while I was staring
With hands full of opportunity
I bet you’d pretend
You didn’t want to tempt me
Give in
And let me
And hang on to your self-respect
(Your mother’s words memorized)
By the teeth
While your legs begged to tremble
And your pride whimpered
Wanting to melt away

What’s even funnier
Is that you know
That I know
If we slipped
We’d break something between us
That could never be fixed
And would have to get drunk
In a disgusting blaze of liquid fire
Sweating out our souls
To make it worth
All we would lose

©12.05.17 ebn

What color is your soul

What color is your soul
You ugly little splendid thing
Always making me laugh in terror
At the harsh and ruinous strokes of my ego
Upon your delicate canvas
You mayfly
You oblivious little ladybug
Caught in my disgusting stare

How can I love you
When my only thought is to smush you beneath my thumb
And clean off your suffering with my tongue
Your broken wings caught in my teeth
As I smile, delighted by some fantasy of
Your spirit flying away
Unseen
And so utterly beautiful
Because it exists only in my imagination

How sordid
To think I was so impressed with you
That it cost you your life

©12.05.17 ebn