I have always wanted 
this a bed in
room with windows and 
two bed lamps flanking 
like torch bearers holding 
the light steady and 
its glow washing everything 
in pale yellow gold 
and a heavy comforter 
messy with heavy wrinkles 
like a map telling 
of last night’s storm 
oh and a door 
for doors are important
leading out leading in
to this place that 
I have always wanted 

I have wondered 
if percolate and 
simmer are same 
for both involve 
boil or does 
one come after 
the other reducing 
the first after 
the second’s added 
just like you 
added to me
makes us wee

I’m in love 
with a ghost 
oh no not 
a spirit for
he is flesh
just a ghost 
not a memory 
either for he
is here partially 
anyway a cat
or a hummingbird 
or a holiday 
that comes around 
every so often 
ghosts need love 
too I suppose 
for isn’t love 
at its essence 
something that haunts 

I wonder now 
had I’d known 
then would I 
would I have 
anything that I’d
had or would 
I’d have not
for had I’d
never then the 
not I’d had
wouldn’t be the 
have that I’d
never have had 

Sitting here in the 
early evening on some 
indiscriminate Sunday in some 
late season month surrounded 
by things of me
and candles and listening 
to some chill Sade
I look at the 
chair opposite of me 
and remember you there
curled up feet under 
that one time just 
like this one time 
and the emptiness now 
wishing so wishing filled