poems that defy categorization for the moment

forgive me francois

it has been four years since i last remembered
your skyblue cadillac loaded to the fins with
giggling boys and girls excited and nervous
driving through midnight jungles headlight free

four years since my celebrations of christmas day
included taking the time to think of you laughing
then leaving the party, writing too short letters
in your horrible handwriting

i have lived for years picturing islands, verandahs,
shotguns and frenchmen,
tahiti, tall beauty and dark curly hair
all without pasting your face in the picture
heard accents on street corners but never your voice
flexed my nimble toes without thinking of yours

forgive me francois

it has been four years since i spoke to you in dreams

saw you standing in swimming pools
slouching 'neath streetlights
boarding small airplanes

beckoning me to join

dream cycle


you can call me katharin and i will call you
the man with the blue eyes. i'll jump down
from above and slide along your body; kiss
you with such force that your eyes will open
wide in surprise and delight.

we'll go to a wedding of people we don't
know just to say we've been there and then
we'll spend the day in the museum with the
wax faces, you with blue jeans and no shirt
the man with the tuxedo giving us the tour.


hundreds and hundreds of sweaters
lining the walls of a covered market
it was mexico or guatemala
or somewhere colorful like that

and on each sweater was a design
a word or a phrase or a picture
the shopkeeper whispered

they hold a secret

but i couldn't unravel it
until riding the bus to the airport
i realized they had told the story of my life.
my life was on sale in a mexican market.

i was flying united. i never fly united.


there was plaster in the bed -- crumbling
white columns surrounded the room and
he looked for candles while i showered
the television playing unwatched in the background

tiny crumbs of plaster dusted his lips
he brushed at them absently with long fingers
his skin translucent marble
muted purple bruises beneath his big blue babies
a fringe of long lashed dark betraying true colors

my fingers knotted in his white blonde hair
we kissed

i woke -- nin wish in my head