My Almost Garden

This is the garden I thought I’d grow

In my mom’s backyard and have my own tomatoes.

I would tend it and it would blossom for me

Like an obedient child with a gift for mommy.

It would be surprisingly bountiful

And people would exclaim over my efforts

And of course, my spectacular tomatoes.

This is the garden I thought I’d grow

In my mom’s backyard and have my own tomatoes.

This plot of gnarled roots and soiled ceramic pots.

With no tomatoes, gifts or exclamations

This is my sacred place

And there are no hungry, tomato craving visitors

To spoil the fruit of dusty comfort among the vines.

As Long as Time Was Time

As I navigated the fury of a cold March rain
I was face to face with the dreary reality
Of quiet truths and loud secrets.
Like a discarded lunch bag, I crumpled
Underneath the demands of the world, drooping
Beneath the nuisance of indiscovery.
I was lost and sure I’d stay that way
As long as time was time. I felt destiny crept along
In secret droves of itself.
An army of inescapable rights and wrongs:
Infantries compiled of tears and fears
Grey walls, freezing rain, and me
Each drop full of admonition
Coloring my every misstep,
the glare of imperfections: mine
So expertly amplified
And washed onto the shoes of the world.

Dazzled

Devastating my senses
Keep leaving me breathless
Gettin dizzy when I’m next
to you
Passions mingle tightly
...With a tango practiced nightly
Erupting in shades of blue
Or. Perhaps... it is red
That shrouds us instead
As one emerges
from two