in your eyes

a little girl's riding her horse right through town
following the trail of an outlaw she loves
collecting a menagerie of aromas and dirt
she looks down on the pedestrian world

now in the bathtub she screams loud & laughs
tickled to be all a-rub-a-dub-dub
splashing suds on all that she sees
making water her weapon of joy

I saw her today as I passed by your eyes
I felt her heart beating still wild
she said hi who're you where're you going right now
she said hey look at me I am me

she talks like a fisherman's daughter
with words that explode in the heart
she catches me drifting and sinking
and hauls me in safe to her boat

2 lives


Her mother used to put him in her playpen with her.
Concerned about her toys, she’d sit and stare —
waiting for him to make his move.

But he didn’t.

He loved only his teddybear,
straw-colored buddy who’d disappear sometimes
mysteriously like memory.

Until she’d find it,

save it from the wastebasket
where it sat, tidied-up & waiting
for someone just like her

to return it.

So she did, perhaps in thanks
for his lack of greed
or just because she worked that way.

It doesn’t matter.

She disappeared to grow a family,
he to save and savor a world
where everything could grow.

Which it did.

Then one day she remembered him
and hauled him back to life, back to love
back to herself, who held him tight

& stuffed the straw back in.

===================================================

for Buddy Furlow
8/28/92

When hearts fall apart
they do it a little at a time
as if the pieces might never meet again
like americans on the move whose lives
relocate in their sleep
who pay their bills by phone
and double up to sleep alone.

I keep my heart in a plastic bag
so when the time comes
for you to give it back
it’s easy, safe, convenient
and the air that it’s been missing
won’t rust it while I learn –
a good old roast with freezer burn.

And I don’t intend to give yours back
in the same state I was in
but rather mess it up a little
so next time it’ll pick a partner
who can take it lying down
and doesn’t want to push and shove
an everyday event like love.

The 300 lb. heart

She had it twisted out of shape
back before her eyes turned in
and age appeared too early
like a bug with no table manners.

She got it broken, a hairline crack
that’s hard to find
until she lets you into it
which she does to get you out.

She knows that starving
is something she must do
to a 300 lb. heart
who won’t stop eating her for lunch.