poem of the day 08.05.09

discussing art

i like watching
the rain fall down
washing out a summer day
the way the gray clouds
and abundant drops of water
keep a gallimaufry
of indistinguishable people
off of the street.
call me sentimental, i guess.
and i like you too
sitting there with that glass of bourbon
after breathless sex
discussing francis bacon
and what it means to make art.
i’ve never really wanted to do it
before, you know,
discuss art,
but there’s something about you
the way you look in the pale light
holding that sweating drink
that makes the topic seem all right.
or maybe i’m just caught in the afterglow
my mind floating
my heart made into mush
sitting like dough in my chest
waiting for you to levigate out the lumps.
i’m just a dog when i get like this
wagging my tail
i’d follow you anywhere.
and i think i’ve learned how to swoon
after twelve years in the mix
with you baby.
that is to say, i feel no trepidation
in my soul
when your eyes beckon me back
toward the bedroom
as the rain begins to fall harder
and all conversation
comes to a stop.
i’m just glad you keep bringing me
along for the ride.