Thursday, November 19, 2015

**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

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