Najy Is A Trip

last night, i traveled to france

under my eyelids. It was green

all those rich shades of it

that makes cities seem poor

and there was a pool

with swim lanes

separated by mini-pirate ships

I wanted to go anywhere. I jumped

and realized I was naked. AH!

These are part of me-

(like my runny nose ands eyeballs)

shame, self-consciousness,

forgetting what's expected of me,

and wanting to shed everything and jump

headfirst into a beauty

that doesn't exist.

Two things

you made two things

a mess

and broccoli leek soup

you can't afford art supplies

so you use food stamps

you can't write poems

so you make monster creations

and cook them up

you fingers want to type so they chop

you eyes want to frame a picture

so they watch the pot.

Follow recipes like the rules of a sonnet

pinch syllable or two.

You shove your free verse

pecan biscuits at me:

you don't say

"eat my art"

but it would be true.

Romance is on a diet

no longer the large belly full of private dinners

tipsy from the cocktails

heavy makeup to impress

and flesh full of lovebites

She eats a salad at work

washes your dishes

picks up your pens and paper

holds you, nude, for the few moments

before your eyes clothes

Every now and then,

she looks at old pictures of herself,

letters and gifts you'd given

before she can tear up

(romance shouldn't snivel,

she should weep gloriously-

or not at all)

she lights a candle

dims the lights

and waits.

She dreams of

gorging on you

till her heart explodes

but she can't find her appetite.

and besides

there's no time.

We rode our bikes

you me dad mom

to a festival for honey

who knew there were so many hills

in iowa, your dad

laughed at me

when the fresh honey poured out

of that big black machine

i was tempted to stick my face in it

so i stuck my finger

the sweet taste in your mouth

is always your secret

I kissed you with tongue to get

courage to take a picture

really really close

of the man with bees

on his face, totally covered

and there were bees crawling on me

but I was so far from my mom, the east coast,

your home, and that bad sting in 7th grade

I didn't run or scream

and you laughed at me

and I thought, fuck it

and laughed too.