catalogue of emotions

1. stuttered

walking in the intrusive sunshine
looking for a place
to eat only an hour of my day's wages
for someplace
to sit and read a book of poetry

to flirt with the italian man
who convinces me
quite easily
to splurge for the iced tea
even though
that's the equivalent of 27 minutes
trapped at a desk
buried in computer data

knowing that my only alternative
is a shelf of ramen
at 22
you'd think i could have a freezer
so i could at least keep
a solitary tray of ice

ungrateful and stuck
like the rest of the american populace
who are living with their parents
who have long strings of degrees

who know the philosophical meaning of work
before understanding true exhaustion
who linger in the abstract
online banking
(and dating)

wandering the streets
to look for some beer
to take home and forget

2. anger

one time
i grabbed my sister's arm
and wanted to twist
to grab skin and leave marks
in a condensed moment
of unloosed energy

i didn't know
that moment could be suspended
and held so carefully

or that i would ever direct it toward you

i want to be a whirlwind in front of you
i want to tear out all of the strands of thought
that are holding me together
and spin them in front of you
to smash the cool dark complacency
that has nothing left for me

i would set myself on fire

3. knot

i've woven together
so many places
so many people
that when i go to rest
to draw it all in
all i'm left with
is an unassailable knot

it lives in the hollow of my neck

4. wanderlust

i had an excuse
when i returned
and there were no trains
there was no way for me to ride
and look
and just sit and absorb stories
while people rotated around me
opening and shutting newspapers
a world passing by

but now
i have nothing to say for myself
and i'm aching
for botanical gardens
and plays
and the way a city smells at night
to wear something tight
and dance with alcohol in my veins
lights flashing behind closed eyes

wanting to go from ocean to ocean

but i'm a trapped moth
wings battered
from what seemed bright and endearing

5. care

holding on to what is delicate and true
watching your eyes close
i've lost words
or the strength to hold on to what makes sense
the best in me has slipped away

for a moment
i don't need words of my own
watching the familiar contours and shadows
flicker across your face

for once
you trust me to sing you to sleep
wanting to show you my empty hands
as i've lost the words to say

6. jealousy

if they'd only looked at me
one glance would be all it took
they wouldn't hold hands
or sit close on the lawn
sneaking a kiss in broad daylight
one look and they'd know to stop

7. empty

i will wait
and hold myself carefully
as a clear glass
spotless and sure

allergies

how to articulate
the feverish, unstoppable stress
of allergies

filling all available cavities
with a routine reminder
that all of our metallic medicinal
wizardry

cannot halt the onslaught
of a body
that has forgotten to be a part of the world
as if we could stand aloof and serene

so that the smallest
most natural
and ancient moments,
dust in the sunlight
breeze across blossoms,
are a direct attack to our supple and cushioned selves

as if
we have forgotten
humans are meant for conflict
like we have beaten down
looming specters
of mortality and unethical rage

the world enters us
creating an unsteadiness
that reminds us
we are meant to fight

security

delighted
figures cutting through
the chill of the air
striding toward
a decadent
evening treat

shadows interrupting each other
a closeness
security
that can only be bought
with two dollar ice cream cones
and the long awaited
return on friendship

waiting for words

when you've let it all out
hundreds of I love yous
more tears than a half dozen tissue boxes can hold
where are you to go?

left with only words
but ready to discard all vowels
to just be unexamined

anything that's left
is just a wrapper
crinkled to create static
in the endless phone conversations we have

waiting
for the sweet chocolate taste of your mouth
for the language you trace
on the paper white of my back

wanting
to go where you are