Kite (for LB)

Frinky found him. But I have to share. 


Watch Rives.  He’s astounding. 



For those who can’t do the YouTube thing.  Here’s the “page for the stage”.  (For LB, who makes me feel like this.)



I mistook a garbage truck for thunder.


The morning after the first night we made love,
I dreamt thunder was chasing rain
through your neighborhood,
flooding the streets and keeping the two of us
indoors for days or even weeks,
until some old prophet could drop, by in an ark,
to take us and the rest of the paired-up animals
to a very high place, or an island maybe,
where we could just
sleep naked for a living.


But the thunder was a garbage truck.
And when my eyes woke up
a note on your pillow said:
“Good morning, Sparkle Boy!
I’ll be back around noon.
You–make yourself at home.”

And so I did.




I’m saying maybe I put on your slippers,
which were as comfortable as bunnies
because they were bunnies,
and then shuffled over my new favorite
hardwood floor to the bathroom
where maybe I took a bubble bath,
which is not something I can do at my place
because, frankly, my tub is way too skanky
to ever sit my bare ass down in.
And then maybe I got so caught up in the romance of the suds
I started quoting old Latin poetry from my college days
like: “fulsere quondam candidi tibi soles…”
You know: “Verily a bright sun does favor me this morning…muthafucka!”


And then maybe I…played with myself.
But it’s not what you’re thinking–
I’m saying possibly I just sorta
stuck my hand up from the water, going:





HAND: “Somebody got laid last night!
It was youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!!!”


Or whatever.


And then maybe I…played with myself,
and it’s exactly what you’re thinking.
But if I did, it was only to put
the mental motion picture of our naked night together
on replay and replay and replay
so touching myself was just like…
Tivo in a way.


And yes, I was still wet when I borrowed your bathrobe.
And yes, I baked apples in your oven
and then ate them with your honey, honey.
And yes, I scared the birds away from your balcony
with my antics, dancing full-blast
to your old Prince CD’s–
but please let’s just keep that my little secret,
because nothing is as private as a solitary dance
unless–maybe–it’s standing in front of a full-length mirror
in a borrowed pair of bunny slippers,
slipping off a bathrobe and then wishing to a lightbulb
that my name, or my game, or my whatever were bigger,
wondering: “What kind of woman wants this skinny kid for her warrior?”


And so I made for you a kite, enormous,
out of coat hangers, brown paper bags
and the masking tape from that drawer in your kitchen,
and I hung it in the hallway
where you couldn’t hardly miss it,
and I tagged that kite with my words,
I wrote:


Just so you know–

My weird mind wanders and my brave heart breaks.
I’ve nailed some milestones, but I’ve made mistakes,
Cuz I got more faults than a map of California earthquakes.

I am taking a nap beneath your covers.

Wake me if you like me.
Wake me if you want me
Wake me if you need another poem.


Your once and future lover
has made himself at home.

Tagged , , ,

7 thoughts on “Kite (for LB)

  1. nursemyra says:

    pretty funny. and cute. two great attributes – I’m sold!

  2. The Tart says:

    I loved this …. I need a man just like that. The bunny slippers .. So cute!

    Thursday smooches,
    The Tart
    ; *

  3. Parenthesis says:

    Hmmm. Something got lost in translation. No, that’s not it. I think I prefer the words on the page to the live version on the stage. The dude is trying to hard. The words, on the page, you can savour, and linger over – creating your own pictures in your mind’s eye. I particularly like the bit up to that first “maybe” 🙂

  4. Dolce says:

    @ Nurse M > Me too. I love spoken word / slam poetry, but this guy mixes humour with seriousness so well. Speaks right to me.

    @ The Terrific Tart > I know. When men aren’t afraid to be silly and have a little fun…it’s sexier than anything.

    @ Ms P > I like both. I love the cadence of spoken word. I love the live rawness of it. Go and see some of his other stuff on YouTube – amazing.

  5. kyknoord says:

    Sounds like someone is a lucky, lucky bastard. I hope he knows it.

  6. daisyfae says:

    unbridled silliness – and the ability to communicate (verbal, non-verbal, sock puppets without socks). the gateway to my soul… love this!

  7. Dolce says:

    @ Kyk > Lucky lucky lark lark lark. Ja. I think I’m pretty lucky too.

    @ Dais > Exactly! If you can find the “fuck a poet” link on YouTube, that’s worth a watch too.

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