we, those on the lawn lit up like a carnival,
fancy ourselves to be
so careless
and tan
mysterious people with new types of hair
and nowhere to be save
Monte
Carlo
My favorite commenter Bobby Ty left this gem as a comment … so I’m giving it its deserved spotlight! Enjoy! Thank you Ty – really great piece!
San Francisco and The Blue Soap
When I bathe
With the blue soap
And I smell its crisp aroma
I remember you lying, half covered with the sheet in the Kimpton
While I showered
And your inked arms and unfinished back were a tapestry
And we went to Boboquivari on Lombard
You reclining beautiful in the Taxi
Your head on my lap
And the driver told us of Milk and Twinkies on Lombard
But we were too young to remember the event
And we walked on the Pier and you said
“Listen to the seals!” as they barked and splashed, unseen in the black water
When I bathe with the blue soap
I remember only you
I remember only San Francisco
leather up the leg,
all of us women, seduced,
dance for those eyes dark.
night blind
she sits achingly slow
next to the body
every wall shadow
watches as shoulders
on two wrists, bend
the form senses
the weight but stirs
only one eye.
and in california wine country
there is one cloud that spills rain
in a grey sheen on the horizon
while over here, sun sun on the vines
shimmers emerald with shades of
dark moss. the smell of fermintation
reminds us of the season; the constant
turning of one thing,
into another.
and one hand runs the wire
while the other swirls, and swirls.
how i remember
the way your head tilted
strangely off balance when
you were angry with me
and how the songs of Chicago
could make you close your
eyes and sway
if only you were here just
one more time, if only,
Poetry by JC Snyder 