The Day I Woke Up


I am real, I obstruct, I cast shadows
3 o-clock I melt
4 o-clock grow like vines
5 o-clock tower like tree,s like mountains, like your father

She says, I am not your amanuensis, your ingenue, your lover
She says, eyes like quarters thrown into a furnace
Blau augen, I say
What? she says
Blue eyes, I say
Oh, she says, you’re not listening
Listen she says, these eyes are disposable
Everyone is disposable
Death is simply…a redistribution of matter

No, I say, when I leave here
I take a part of you with me
in remembrance, I put you in my little room upstairs
And I do// whatever// I want// to do.


I am real, I obstruct, I cast shadows
3 o-clock I melt
4 o-clock grow like vines
5 o-clock tower like trees, like mountains, like the earth rushing at you when you fall

staring at the clouds, flat on your back
Faces asking, “What’s your name?”
” Do you know where you live?”
” What’s your number?”


I say I am what I’m called
I live where I breathe
I take up space, I displace
The water rises when I sink
I know I’m alive when I wake, when I shake,
When I blink.

I was seeing another man’s girl
she would not agree
with that she is her own girl
her own Woman.

I dreamt that she and I moved in, together
in a small bedroom apartment, Underground
You saw your former boyfriend,
but told me you didn’t
but you were lying
and I knew it

So we moved to Moab
made a baby and had a garden
You’d buy some Guinness and
I’d make some pasta because
You couldn’t cook worth a damn
And we’d eat it and drink it
and make love in it
and I was happy

until I woke up

I still remember your parting shot, a postcard with the line: “I love the false image I had of you…”
Oooooh…(and this is how I feel)

I am this infidel, this smoke
BURN this need to cancel
I am this smoke, I get in your eyes
make you cry, baby

To the job you hate, I am the words: I quit
(and the Greyhound ticket a week later to the coast)
I am your recapitulation
when you hear your lover’s voice
on the machine say, “I’m sorry, I’m so-so- sorry.”
I am the absence of absence
I am that next to last drink
I am the moment you ask someone out
rejecting expectance
expecting rejection

I am the lit match to tinder
I am the clouds friction, bringing storms
I am the glance up, the locking eyes
I am that turn on the mountain road
leading to a turnover, witnessed by trees
I am the sound of the turning of the key
When your lover comes in after midnight
I am the question in your mind, wanting to ask, “Where’ve you been?”
never asking, pretending to sleep
I am the nightmare shaking, dawn breaking
I am your lover’s voice saying, “Wake up.”