ruth, waking

shush now
still dreaming don't
wake the babe, she's journeyed
from paradise to be here sleeping
with you

you called this morning to let me know why you haven't been home in thirty six hours.
she's still in labor, she wants me here, i'm part of her entourage

first sight
that's how i loved
crowning milky, fist tight eyes
skin soft as air. are you really
here, now?


it's been a party. i crack them up, even my ex. that girl is slow because she's afraid to face her genetic pool. even the tornado's pressure drop didn't move her along much. she's taking her time. it's amazing how helpful the staff is here and get this, my ex? only got kicked out twice.

ok, listen, she said, this is not working. you want this flow like dusting. but it 's choppy and contrived. you need a word cloud. you need to stop writing drek and read some good poems. you need to not post this. i want to write a poem for abbey.




then stop being so artsy. 

lol.


i saw  a picture of you
 in your grandfather's house.
you were twelve, awkward hair,
bright smile/your father's eyes,
clefted chin, aimed
at the camera,  i recognised the girl
in a flash of deja vu no longer than a static shock.
 you are much older since
i've known you. once  after the psychosis
 abated, you thanked me for letting you live
 in my house while  you recovered since your
dad lives with me since your grandad  kicked you out after the first time
then your boyfriend's mom kicked you out during the second
and your boyfriend couldn't live  in the apartment you rented together ,after all,
without becoming a controlling asshat, so bascially,
 it was let you stay
or watch you and your dad
try to live out of a borrowed mercury marquis- but i
told you - ruth, i think i was brought
 into your life
for a reason,and even though i don't like the idea
 of determinism
 i think i am supposed to help you
because i knew you
in alternate universe,  i wasn't trying to push you
over the edge again, it was
a truth
but honestly this house
is big enough and you make the best
 oatmeal chocolate chip cookies
in the family.



******



there was
 a quietness to
 your illness.  you escaped .
how -unknown. seeds thrown, mysterious
rebirth.

we ate cookies four seasons, unraveled boxes of cables, snakey and 01. percent failures to sell on ebay.   we all read books on dreams, on finding them in the darkest places. some days she didn't come out of her room. but she had a computer. her family was on facebook. she   left to visit her mother at christmas .


she's new
cheesy, wrinkled.
her dark eyes stare at you.
you begin to cry holding her.
so new.


 a few weeks  later she moved out for good. couch surfed for a while, got a job, got another job, got a car, got pregnant. she didn't want an abortion, didn't want to raise a child. 

give her
a good life. yes.
hand her to the mom you
chose to be her mom.because you
love her