I Live For Chickens

I live for chickens, and for the sound
Of bare feet tapping on wet ground.
I love the way the phone rings persistently
At 3 o'clock in the morning.
I wait for the next time
We can live and dream
Of ice cream cones and of tall glasses
Of cheap wine coolers.
I sleep in a memory of
Cold nights and sweat dripping from
My skin.

I live for the way your hair
Stands in all direction
Like an out of
Controlled fire. You sail
From far waters to protect
The innocence that
Lingers in my head.
I'd die for anything and everything
Imaginable.

We would sit, if we could, on
The edge of the earth recounting,
Retching up seconds
That never come back. I think
That you'd live for me, but it
Is hard to tell when
All we do is gaze at the nothingness
That hides inside us.
I'd kill for you. And relax in the thought
That we could enjoy a piece
Of fried chicken or
A bowl of vegetable soup while
The rest of the city
Pisses off the highest skyscraper.

(6/00)