On Growing Old

A time will come when I will no longer be able
To discern the Teapot's whistle;

The steam will rise: unheard
And I will continue sitting in my rocker: reading.

The water will boil down to emptiness,
And I will wonder how it got here.

Reasons I Fall For You

I have come to a place in my life
Where
Romance is found
Not so much in new love
But in deep connection
In mugs of hot drinks
And clear starry nights
Shots of tequila in an abandoned bar after a picture wrap
Rainy mornings
The full moon glowing through my window
Drops of water slinking from hairline to chinbone
Washing off stage make-up in the shower
Breathing in steam and out like dragon wings
Sitting by myself on the porch at dawn in summer
The vast collectiveness of the human imagination...

I don't need you to bring me flowers
As a token of your affection
Or write me poetry
Or take me out to someplace fancy.

I can write my own poetry
And choose my own flowers
And make my own nourishment.

(I don't need an excuse for a tie or a little black dress)

So teach me a new adventure:
Take me on a ride through the outer stretches of your mind -
Because those are things I cannot find outside.

A Full Life

Nobody wants to see a full life in a book of poetry
They want you to spread it out
And categorize it
As if that is the way that life actually works
Like movies - taking heightened experiences and making it seems like that is a whole life
Of everyone but you
So everything we are watching
Or reading
Makes us feel crazy
Like our quirks or our boredom: those things are irregular
What is irregular
Is
The insanity of focusing on one section of your life at a time
Of keeping this neatly out of the way
Of never using the bathroom
Or making a mess on your face
Of having perfect teeth
White and not yellowed by coffee
Even though coffee is consumed in every episode