Off-White House

One by one 

they're walking off the stage

before the show is over

but for them, it's over.

Given lines, force fed rhetoric

of ridiculous proportions.

On the front lines

defending to the masses

that yes, he knows what 

he's doing, rationale

lost on intelligent people 

because it's not founded

on any sense of right

or justice or common good.

It's vile and villainous

degrading those lovely rooms

of history's great past

a White House taking on

a very tainted shade.

Darlings

She came out of her room

sat nearly ten feet away

across the new wood coffee 

table with cuts and digs 

just like it was made from

a tree in the backyard.

She's remained there

ate her dinner there

even commented on the 

red valances I hung.

The bedroom door is open

so of course I can see

the ripple effects of 

locking herself in her room

for days--coming out for 

food and to shower.

I let her do it

I watched her 

not speak to me and 

waited for her to realize

I'm not the enemy

or some ignoramus

who doesn't get what 

It's like to be the new kid

who thinks her new 

band mates won't get her 

and therein lies the crux--

not that they're weird 

or different but that 

maybe they'll think she is. 

I can't tell her they won't.

I want to tell her it will all

be okay because teenagers

are darlings and they are

sure to accept you as you are.

Then I know to say absolutely 

nothing. 

So Wrong

I thought I meant more

was a part of the internal

conversation he has 

about his needs, his desires

his long-term love goals

that I truly wanted to fulfill.

He left early, too early

and I remained on the couch

numb, full of tears

barely believing 

he'd leave because 

I think it crazy to wait 

six years for a commitment,

and because the tiny equity 

in his house means more 

than true love and 

true friendship.

I thought we would defy 

the odds; be unbroken

and in love. Touch each other

with soft words and thoughtful

Ideas on how we could exist

together, in this world, in this life.

I was so wrong. Only tears now.

Growing Pains

I called an old friend today

one I thought I loved

through romantic-colored eyes.

I said I know now

why you had to hurt me; 

because I needed

to understand 

how real love works.

I told him I see now

and I love this man very much.

I said I'm sorry I'm a dreamer

it's a disease 

but it can be cured

with adequate doses of reality.

I'm sure there was that side 

corner smirk, laughing to

himself, as if I was the 

little sister trailing behind 

wanting to learn

be like him

have him know me 

as the grown-up 
it was time for me to be.

Lyrics

I've listened to music 

like its words are real

and might jump out 

hold me tight.

They come to life

touch my hand

make me believe 

I can have it too

be a part of what

everyone else is feeling

thinking, being

with each other

and suddenly I

feel loved.

Words rise 

and speak to me

so that I'm crying 

silly, happy tears

no longer desiring 

to be special

they have made me so. 

Warm

Not like when air stands still, stale

and roll up your sleeves, pull at you collar
but like soft-baked bread in your hand

moments after removed from the oven.

Not like how coffee tastes after having sat 

but like fingers pressed against heater vents

hours after dredging them in snow.

It’s the ahhh factor, the ohhh, that is so nice sentiment.

It’s his hand on my cheek or pressed lovingly at my neck.

It’s the soft words he uses when I least expect him to be soft.

It's my arm across his bare chest as we drift off to sleep.

Temporarily Displaced

First the desks were going

then us to the 4th floor

with makeshift workstations 

and lots of labeled baskets.

It rained overnight and the 

roof leaked right where 

they put us for the next 

six to eight weeks. 

Garbage cans huddled 

to catch every drop,

and this is hurricane season. 

Then the printer/copier/fax

or the end all and be all 

stroked out at 10 o'clock

down till 3 o'clock. 

I was grateful for the noise 

reduction, when always 

right at my back. And though

silenced, lovingly, for a time 

it no sooner returned 

like the rounds of 

chirping birds at dusk.

It's a drag on the 4th floor

having to share the fridge 

and water cooler with 

existing habitants who

have shown us the stink eye

more than once. 

Office workers: so damn 

territorial, like it was their 

place on the playground. 
Kids.

In Today's News

People run and scream.

Pop, pop, pop comes from 

seemingly every direction 

but which, actually, 

and by whom.

Wildfires stealing homes

and endless forests.

Talk of another pedophile 

in the Vatican--quickly hushed.

Long despondent eyes 

of homeless animals

and starving children.

A new generation of corruption

and a Neo-Nazi regime

wanting to be stirred

under our feet.

The KKK adorn still 

their favorite sheets

of Mississippi white

with grade-school cutouts 

revealing dead pupils.

The American stage: a show 

depicting colossal idiocy 

as we sit in the audience

throwing over-ripe tomatoes

after every contemptuous line.

Smoked Gouda

There's miles ahead
moving under a wispy sky 
of tangerine and cream.

Wanting to rush, get home

make the sauce with bits 

of green pepper and mushroom.

It's commonly eighty nowadays 

on the speedometer

watching the gas gauge 

plummet

but too eager to melt 

smoked Gouda

over the garlic bread

a touch I left out

to surprise 

to make him smile

because it's his favorite.

I sent a text at 5:08

while cruising Future 86;

now, home, 7:00
no text back.
Wishing to matter more
he woke from the day's
exhaustion, called
and hurried right over.
The smoked Gouda
was not purchased in vain.

Signs You're Getting it Right

Despite sore calves 

and aching feet

long hours of putting 

our life into boxes 

deciding at this junction 

what stays and what goes,

there's big sunny windows

and almost perfect cooling.

There's curiously happy cats

and a positively spirited teenager

enjoying the lock on her door

staying awake all night

with excitement 

that only summer allows,

waiting for fall 

and new friends

she can invite over

to bond and giggle with

in her locked bedroom.

Meanwhile I'm celebrating 

the correct choices
I seem to be making 

says the signs posted

along the way.

And it's his warmth

his smile

his hand on mine--

the best signs of all.