what makes you

the summer inevitably makes you older
there is a kettle now rusting fields
satellite of the local country memories
wounding the present and scurrying home
for sleep or something worse I wake
asleep at night knowing that there is
a hole there and fresh red smoke

she is here at the door we had sex today
and laughed the whole time wide smiling
kisses on the teeth, she knows me now
as I once was, but won’t be like before
the drunk confined students – only
innocence can manage, just enough
for a small room alone.  I know it is her

last breath secrets I do not know that sink
my glass blue veins blacker – to say that it is
coming back from New York and wants
to see you and wake up on the porch in
your arms after only my tears in yours
now the tired morning gold, good to see you
I want to see you as much as I can

this is all we have... I know it is her last
breaths after the restaurant business let me
know, closing down the dishes round twelve
and thinking sarcasm is starvation; it is so awfully
quiet in a kitchen, but your love that knew
I always did run away waited for their lips
to leave mine – you are my night-time sky