I Don’t Want to Write an Eulogy

This time we’ll ride this winter out…

Maraschino cherries, in a short
glass or inked in your arm–you take

care of me when I have too much
(mostly when I’ve had too little…)

It’s like pressing against glass under
water, not enough force, no getting

through–deaf surrealism–someone
you shared a bed with will never lay

in a bedroom again, Hypnos taking
away Zeus in a ruse, black clouds

and lost lightning–We were going
to get koi fish tattoos together, I should

have done it. I should have taken
the risks you always take, for betterment,

for light… Your energy, dispersed, to some
place greater: maybe to a gusting gulf

stream wind, or a flashing meteor whose
light will be seen for centuries

across the universe…

For Eric C. Jr.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s