She Said 

there is a time
for us, & a place
for that – the poem.

such conflict, between
the lady & the poem
that separation is 

today, we look one
at the other, both
aware that in

the final love
there is no allowance
for tomorrow

———–

The Hope

softly, woman
softly,
your voice
my hand,

Our collaboration
of detail –

the way it is.

Quiet & softly
on the ledge
of night.

———–

Face To Face

In the cellar
I come
face to face
with a rat, brown
cornered

like myself…
if I move he moves,

and all I want is my stash
& to get 
back upstairs

to my ol lady.

Just which one
of us
knows
the rules
of survival & need

best?

———–

The Relief

Living with the poem
is very, very difficult.

It can’t cook, make a bed
or yield bread…

it does nothing for me.

But wait: my immense lies
are stabilized, & to be

relieved of that self
is accomplishment

outside of poetry.