Two Poems
A Man’s Confession
This is not simply loneliness. Your absence
is a terrible and bitter thing.
Every night when I return, throw
open the front door, leave
behind all other amusements, enter
my damned wreck of a home,
I am filled with this bitterness.
You would never shut the door in my face.
Your door would always be open.
Just the breath from your open door would ignite me.
This is not just loneliness. Your absence
is a terrible and bitter thing.
Every night I throw down my weary arms
upon your pillow, as traitors to the homeland
are tossed into cold graves.
In my bed of ice I howl like a dog
until morning. My neighbor
told me, last night
a dog kept us from our sleep.
Come back. Chain me to my nest with your hair.
I am not afraid for them all to know –
how this longing has made me a dog.
Sooner or later, everyone will figure it out.
At the one they know is ownerless,
everyone throws a stone.
The Desk
You are my closest friend,
my dearest lover.
Seated facing you, I cannot remain silent.
You free my heart, always.
You have no tongue, no mouth –
you respond to me with silence.
You have no need of paper, nor pens,
for you have nothing to say, nor analyze.
At times, my dear possession, it is to you I write.
At times, when I can’t find the words to empty my heart,
I want to climb upon you,
and hang myself. My lovely,
dumb writing table.
