L

the last train car smells
like old milk
all aboard to sway
between First and Bedford
on the slow creep
reserved for late nights
drunk

old milk and beer

a child asleep on mother's lap
knit cap
falling over one eye
one aging Asian lady
holding plastic bags
filled with god knows what

who's been drinking ambrosia
is this the new drink
I am behind

my old brown
boots shuffle to make
room for more

THE TRUTH, or AN E-MAIL I SENT AT 2AM

It's been a weird couple
Of weeks with a lot
Going on and now
It's late and I can't sleep
And I can't help
For some reason but wonder
What you know about me

You probably suspected
But if you cared it never showed
I might as well let it out
Like a sigh of relief
That I loved you and I might still
And if I didn't believe
You're a good man

I'd never think something like

Congratulations
You're such a disappointment
Sent from my iPhone

YELLOW LIGHT

our World is the dull
yellow light
my laugh
knees drawn up
on your couch
wet jeans hung to dry

sometimes your hands remember my thighs

yellow light doesn't lay
itself burdensome
itself like day

upon our freckled shoulders
Intimacy is a big word

we are happy and unglamorous
we always share

a fruit before bed