leaving him is what she does best



leaving him is what she does best.
she feels sadly
beautiful from the back,
suitcase in hand

even when he's not around
she's always leaving
him

her conversations end
in ellipses
in mornings
in sidewalks

she does her best at leaving him
because wanting him doesn't change anything
because staying wouldn't answer it
because loving him is not an option

because her train is always coming
because she's always getting on it

because her wrists are sore from not waving
and her chest is sore from not
wavering

and because
leaving him is what she does best.





our last embrace

was in your volvo

your volvo,
isn't that ironic?

you'd taken the wrong turn
yet again
i'd given up correcting you

something in me
didn't want correction

our last embrace
was awkward, long

you kept patting my back
but i'm so small
your arms so long

you reached full around me,
your hands nearly cupping my breasts

i was never so close to kissing you
as i was with your arms around me
your hands so closely brushing my breasts

in our last embrace








ode to that faceless guy i fucked

so
i can't really remember
what you look like i mean
hair color, vaguely reddish brown
eyes, you wore glasses
it was dark i didn't look that hard
i do recall your back,
finely muscled
in fact, you had a pretty good bod
and i remember that
but your face

well
see, i wasn't in it for love
i wasn't in it for money
actually i wasn't in it at all,
you were
but the point is i don't remember
what you look like especially during the day
i might recognize you on the street
but that's not a hundred percent

hi
i might say but it'd take a few seconds
to put the face with the ass
but i don't want you to feel bad
that's sort of a lie
i do want you to feel bad
because i feel really really bad

because i called someone else
your name
last night





paulie g



paulie g
my little brooklyn boy

if you weren't so damn scary
i'd marry
you

i'd wear a short white dress and
you'd rent a tux
with your pen
behind your ear

what's that pen doing there anyway, huh?
you waitin' for something?

well you wanna be a writer
and you've read it all
so you write and you write
and i've read it all
and so you're a writer
and you use words like
palimpsest

but you're no writer,
paulie g

i make you just my brooklyn boy
and that's more like it

in your cords and white t-shirts
i wish you smoked, paulie g
things would be so much easier if you had a vice

look at me

when i'm talking to you
my jeans get slick
and my lips get red
when i'm talking to you

yeah, so i'm older
i popped my fingers when you were only ten
went down on guys before you had your first kiss

paulie g
paulie g
paulie g
i just can't stop
saying it
your name is like a lollipop
so sweet in the sucking that i hold it out
a pucker and a drop
long stretches of el's and ee's
i roll my tongue around you
like a lemon-flavored tootsie pop
i suck on your name and swallow the juice


my little brooklyn boy
in your athletic sweaters and
small beaded necklaces with your pen
behind your ear

i don't even know what color
you write in
paulie g
blue or green
and if it matches those huge eyes you got
but it doesn't matter

'cause i'm
not interested

in what interests the other girls
paulie g

i don't want to fuck your brains out
paulie g

i just want to fuck your brains

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