**Poem: "Imperfections" **

Even in daylight use

black mascara liberally,

wear fresh stockings

when you can, continue

to play gently with  the

faults of others.

The point is to keep on living,

to know we all reside within

our consequences.

You’re the one I can be

imperfect with,

share the daily news with,

curl my legs around in sleep.

Coffee from unscrubbed urns,

box wine served in well-

worn carafes, we entertain

ourselves with guitars,

with words and gestures.

Your quiet penance is

spending your life with me.

Memory of season

rises Ashokan blue

in your hard eyes,

then fades, quickly submerged.

Moustache flecked with

some regret and grey,

recorded in your humble

chin are motel birthday

celebrations, after school

detours, misguided teddies.

Your freshly pressed persona—

antique shop? Goodwill?—

narrow tie, somebody’s tie tack,

white button-down dreams--

For love you have been stupid, too.

I find your imperfections

sexy, a powerful attraction

to your stumbling, natural life.

CAR  5/8/10